Guardian Angel: The Return
by DesertedMirage
Summary: SEQUEL. Separated, pulled apart by the underworld's Guardian Angel Agency. They were always watching, waiting, scheming. And now they've succeeded. The result? A new Max, a new Terry. Their love remains. But will the two ever be reunited? COMPLETE
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Batman Beyond or any of the characters. Although I do own the characters I have added.

**DesertedMirage Says: **This is the continuation of my fanfic _Guardian Angel_. I'm glad to have reached the next part of this story. It too, like GA, was written and finished years ago, and needs only to be edited for your reading pleasure. So I will be doing the same as I did with GA - posting it chapter by chapter as I edit.

So please enjoy the rest, and if you haven't read _Guardian Angel_, you won't know what's going on from here on out. So I suggest that you read _Guardian Angel _and _Crashed Interlude_ (both under my profile) if you would like to know the details. Everything will be explained very soon. Please let me know if you have any questions.

Enjoy, my friends.

* * *

Guardian Angel: The Return

Prologue

_Terry,_

_I dreamed about you again last night. I'm so glad you're still here with me, in my mind. Your clear, blue eyes. Your jet-black hair, boyish smile and laid-back humor. We were together, in a maze. Your hand was securely holding mine. You were speaking to me, trying to help me find my way back home. We were almost there when I began to wake up. I asked you if you would meet me again tomorrow night. You said that you would always be there._

_Terry, my love, my only real love, your voice is gone from my ears. I can't remember the sound, so it's more like a feeling now. I wish I could hear you again. I feel angry at myself for forgetting your voice. But I know that it's strong and soothing. I know that it can comfort, that it can make me smile. I know this, even though I can no longer imagine the sound. You're like music, like a favorite song whose memory is dancing away. But I know that I love you. And at least I still remember your name, and your face. Their serum hasn't stolen that away from me yet. _

_Terry, I can't even recall my own name anymore. That was the first thing to slip away. They figured if I forgot who I was, if I changed myself, then they would have better control over me. But it's alright. It's just another word for "me." I wonder if you'd like my new name - it's "India." Pretty, isn't it? _

_But I'm afraid, Terry. It's all fading, slowly but surely. They found my sketches of your face yesterday. They burned them. Though they've murdered you, they don't want any part of you to remain in my memory either. I was so angry at them that I yearned to kill. But then I remembered your standard of respecting life, as the Dark Knight. I want so badly to be more like you. I don't want your memory to be in vain. So I'll live in your memory for as long as I manage to stay breathing._

_Maybe tonight you'll help me out of this maze, as long as you don't let go of my hand…I'll keep breathing for you._

_See you when I fall asleep, Terry. I love you._

_~ India_

A tear dropped onto the page as I set down my pen. I closed the diary where I sat at my desk, then slid it safely away into the secret compartment I had installed. I knew that it was silly to think of anything as truly "secret" about my life anymore, not within the agency walls.

I sighed.

But I had to try. I refused to lose it all without a fight…I refused to lose him as easily as they wanted me to.

My elbows propped on the wooden desktop, my face cupped in my hands. My eyes slid up to the window before me, overlooking the expansive, crystal lake. My focus shifted to my reflection in the glass, my copper-brown eyes staring dully back at me. They rarely smiled anymore, and were always alert, always sad, always hopeless.

My once bright pink hair was now dark brown. It was long and straightened, falling just below my shoulders. A single lock was bleached. A small, silver stud gleamed on the side of my nose, and my features had matured slightly to reflect my twenty years of age.

A boat pulling up to the docks stole my attention. My eyes followed it, watching the turquoise-eyed, brown-haired man alight onto the pier. His movements were confident and easy, now totally familiar to me. He had just returned from a mission. My spirits lifted slightly. We had a lunch date planned for that afternoon.

My sad expression remained, though, as I scooted my chair back and prepared to get ready.

I studied the disappearing scar on my mid-section while changing. I wished that it would stay, yet even scars had to fade away. Luna's bullet had been slowed just enough by my suit to keep it from reaching any vital organs. But she had crushed two of my ribs during the battle, having left me off of my feet for a little while.

I left my suite in the large island estate, hurrying down the wide staircase and through the ballroom out to the garden and docks. I was better trained than before, programmed to be a "Guardian Angel," as they called it. I had been snatched away from Gotham City in order to put my Batgirl skills to use for their underworld.

I slid on my suede jacket while traversing the courtyard, remembering the days when I used to go to the gardens to be alone, to cry…over Terry and the new life forced upon me two years in the past.

The foggy state of mind, the nightmares, the pain from the rehabilitation process, the grief over Terry. They had left me in ignorance while I recovered, until the day when they finally allowed me to meet my boss, when it was all explained…


	2. Chapter 1

**DesertedMirage Says:** I really want to thank you guys for the reviews and feedback on this project. **RedSharkBait, ohgodofwriting, dispatcher652 (welcome aboard!) Silverquickstar, Dragon77 - **thanks for coming with me to read this. I hope that you enjoy it.

I'll do my best to answer your questions!

* * *

I was drifting in and out of consciousness, plagued with confusing dreams. At times I was freezing cold, others I was burning hot. I was never fully alert, though, and opened my eyes only a few times. The light I saw was dim and ghostly, somewhere over my head. Sweat beaded on my skin, and I shook with chills.

There were voices humming around me, though I couldn't always distinguish what they were saying. I must have been running a fever, and was out of it for what felt like days. The voices would leave, and I was left alone, laying in stillness. I lacked the strength to move anything but my fingers and eyelids. I swallowed once and realized how dry my mouth was.

At one point the voices became English in my ears, and I began to realize that someone was speaking to me.

"Max, try to wake up."

They were coaxing me out of my slumber, out of my lethargic state. I didn't know if they were male or female, but they kept calling. I held to the voice each time I felt myself slipping away, my subconscious mind warning me to stay awake…to stay alive.

"Hang in there, Max, hang in there."

Another period of sleep, and then I began to fully open my eyes.

A face slowly adjusted into focus. A nurse, standing beside the bed.

"Good morning, young lady," she smiled warmly. She was an older woman with gray hair and a kind face. "We've been waiting for you to come-to for quite a while now."

My brow furrowed. I wanted to reply, but I wasn't sure if I even could. I felt so weak…

"I…what…hap-happened?"

"You've had surgery for a gunshot wound, and you've got some broken ribs," she explained frankly. "Do you want to try to drink some fluids?"

I nodded very slightly, and the nurse smiled with a pat on my shoulder before leaving the room.

_Gunshot wound…broken ribs… I don't understand. I can't remember. What day is it? What year? If I'm hurt, where's my family? Where's Terry, where's Alicia? Are they hurt too? Maybe we've been in an accident…_

My heartbeat quickened as I began to worry that something had happened to my loved ones. Terry would have rushed to my bedside, he was my best friend. My mom, she would be there. Alicia would be there. Why was I alone?

The nurse returned at that moment, holding a cup of water.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her eyes on the monitor displaying my elevated heart rate.

"Is my-my family okay?" I dared to ask, stumbling over my words.

"Oh, they're all fine, dear," she assured gently, looking me in the eye. "Everything is alright and we're going to get you back to full health. You'll know everything very soon. Now try to drink some water."

The cold water felt like ice as it slid down my throat and into my stomach. Although the nurse spoke honestly and consolingly, I didn't believe her.

* * *

I twisted carefully onto my side, trying to find a more comfortable way to sleep. I hadn't managed to get a truly good night's sleep quite yet, although it had been at least two days since I had woken up.

I was tired of the pain in my torso, and meds only sent me into a stupor. The IV needles in my skin were beginning to itch, but there was nothing I could do.

I sighed. At least it was darker now. The room I had been in at first was the recovery room used after surgery, according to the nurse. The light there was so washed out…so chilling.

My eyes shifted to the door to my right. It was cracked a little, and a tan light glowed from outside. They had me up on my feet earlier that day, walking around the room. My legs had been wobbly, and my head feeling like a weight from the meds.

Pain was the least of my concerns, though. The doctor and nurse's vagueness was all I had gotten as far as information was concerned. I hadn't been told where I was, nor where my family was. I had originally guessed that I was at Gotham General Hospital, but the staff wore no ID badges of any sort.

I tried not to panic, but then I still couldn't clearly remember what had happened. Once, I deduced that there must have been an accident and they were lying to me about the state of everyone else. I knew that it was sometimes customary to wait for the patient to heal and reach a healthy mental condition before the truth was told.

A memory fleeted through my dreams once, and I woke up with a start. A massive teddy bear, flowers, Terry smiling as he lugged them inside of the hospital room. Alicia sat beside me, trying to convince me that he was crazy about me to have brought such a tremendous get-well exhibit.

I stared into the darkness, hearing the steady beep of the monitors to which I was connected.

That dream - it felt so real…as though it had actually happened, but I wasn't sure.

* * *

A day later, I was moved to a different room, out of the intensive care unit with its covered windows and dreary atmosphere.

Although it was yet another part of the hospital, the new room was larger than the other, and most importantly, it was bright and almost cheerful with its large window. I was treated with a great amount of care, respect and kindness. It was as though I was their only patient.

Flowers awaited me when I arrived, sitting on the bedside table and window-sill. The nurse neglected to mention who they were from, and I didn't ask, as I had given up on gathering any new information just yet.

Now a few days after waking up, I was beginning to remember more about my life. I had dreamed of flying over Gotham City with Batman, and I knew that I was once Batgirl. The memories of the days leading up to prom gradually resurfaced. Terry coming to Terra, the way we were together, in love… But it always stopped there. I couldn't remember what had happened next.

Judging that over a week had now passed, I realized with apprehension that I must have been kidnapped. No mentions of Gotham City were made by any of the doctors or nurses; no mention of Bruce.

There were days when I thought that I was going insane, and that my memories of Gotham, Batman and Batgirl were false. I guess not having contact with anyone familiar can do that to a person.

* * *

I changed eagerly, yet with a sense of dread just the same. That day, I had upgraded from uncomfortable hospital gowns to a pair of jeans and a nice blouse. Two weeks since waking up, and still no information…except that I was to meet someone who would explain it all. I was slightly excited, but more-so terrified. Were they going to admit to me that my loved ones were gone? Or confirm that I had been kidnapped?

I swallowed as I sat on my bed, staring out the window at the blue sky. I had peered out the glass once, only to see acres of green fields. Wherever I was, it was beautiful, and I _had _practically been treated like royalty.

I dragged my fingers through my hair, staring at the door, waiting for it to open and Cathy, the nurse, to appear and tell me what would happen next. So far, I had been given the food, hygiene products, clothes and even makeup of my choice, and I was quite curious to know who was behind it all.

When Cathy did enter, she was dressed in casual attire, as opposed to her medical scrubs. She smiled, and we walked out into a main hallway, where a young man was waiting to escort us out of the ward. I soon learned that the building was a humongous estate, each of the corridors beautifully decorated in elegance. I stared out the windows as we walked along, seeing a large, sapphire lake. Finally, we arrived at a luxurious office, and Cathy explained that "they" would be right with me shortly.

I nodded with a small "thank you," and was left alone after the door closed.

My eyes wandered around me. The office was more like a pent-house apartment, with a seating area, bar, and a large oak desk. Three large letters were carved onto its front: "GAA." The room was bathed in sunlight from the expansive window, and a long board table stretched in the middle of the floor. I furrowed my brown, spotting the simple flower arrangement of pink hydrangeas resting on the edge of the table. I stepped forward, bending to smell them. I had always loved flowers, and hydrangeas were my favorites. My dad used to always bring Mom, Alicia and I hydrangeas on Valentine's Day.

I straightened with a sad sigh, staring back out the window to my right. I didn't hear when the door opened behind me.

"They're for you."

I swallowed slowly. I recognized the voice, knowing who it belonged to before I turned around. I had been deprived of that presence for four long years, and never had I thought that I would have it back.

"Daddy…" I whispered as I faced him.

He stood before the door, a small, hesitant sort of smile on his slightly aged face. The thick dark hair I remembered was now closely cropped, and he had a bit of facial hair that wasn't there before. But the dark, commanding eyes were the same, the wide nose, the tall, strong stature.

I didn't know what to think or feel for a few seconds, until it all began to sink in. All I knew was that I had been alone for weeks, without a hint of familiarity. But here stood my father, here stood safety, here stood what had been missing for years.

We both remained awkwardly still, until Dad took a step forward. The tears poured freely as I ran into his arms.

* * *

**I just want to say, bubbles'cute - you guessed correctly! :) I was so impressed when I saw your review that one time where you speculated the identity of the boss I keep mentioning. And you were aboslutely right! I wanted so badly to recognize your correct guess in an author's note, but I couldn't give it away. ;)**


	3. Chapter 2

**DesertedMirage Says:** Hey guys. Thank you for the reviews. I'm always grateful. :)

**ohgodofwriting** (Yes, I'm finally posting hehe)

**Silverquickstar** (Wow, good observation!)

**dispatcher652** (I'll just say that things will get deep;)

**Ferlinda** (Nick will be back, no worries)

**Dragon77** (Thanks for the boost!)

**FoxlilRaven **(Good question! Hopefully this will answer it)

**SiaAhn Sacham** (Thank you and welcome! Hope you enjoy!)

**mochalocha85** (Welcome to the story - thanks so much! I'm glad you liked GA)

When _GA: The Return_ is complete or almost complete, I will share with you a playlist I pieced together for it. But if you've heard the song "Hotel California" by the Eagles and are familiar with the lyrics and mysterious/bitter/sweet sound, that is what I was listening to when I wrote this chapter and the one to come. That song pretty much sums up the Guardian Angel Agency. Sort of like a foggy parallel universe. A "hotel" from which you can't really escape...

**

* * *

**Dad and I were always close. I remember when I could say that I had a father who helped me with my homework, taught me his quirky cooking secrets, and almost never failed to follow through. We could talk about nearly anything, we had "date" nights where we would go out to a movie or dinner, and he taught me all of the tomboyish things a father teaches his children.

According to my parents, I had gotten very sick as a toddler, and almost lost my life. Although I pulled through with flying colors, Mom said that Dad never truly learned to let go. I guess that's why his sudden departure came as such a shock to me. I marked that year, just two days shy of my fourteenth birthday, as the turning point of my life.

My parents got along well, and our family was strong, cohesive. But money began to dwindle when Dad got laid off. He was a genius, and not just academically. No, my father had ideas, plans, dreams. He had a knack for controlling things, massive operations, and needed only to have the right people in his path, the right resources at his fingertips. He could have changed the world. He wanted to start a business of his own, because he had been used by all of his employers. They always hired him for his knowledge and skill, only to send him packing when he began to move up the corporate ladder. All of them were jealous of his abilities, and maybe even afraid of what he could become. I guess the last time they released him, it finally destroyed his patience.

A call from Washington, D.C., one of his old college buddies had a job offer. Dad left to investigate, but he never returned. A week later, Mom sat down Alicia and I to tell us that they were getting a divorce. Her only explanation for the stunning news was a "disagreement." He hadn't left a number to reach him, an address - nothing. It was as though he had never existed.

I began to keep to myself after that, not knowing how to handle it except by punishing myself and those around me. At first, I refused to let anyone in, but Dana and Terry wouldn't allow me to be completely alone. And when Terry's dad was murdered, I learned to reach out to others by helping him through his grief.

But my wound never fully healed.

I stared into the glass of water in my trembling hands. I wiped at the remaining tears under my eyes.

Dad handed me another tissue from where he sat across from me in the opposite chair.

"Thanks," I said softly.

Dad was leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees, hands clasped.

Neither of us had really spoken. I was sitting with the water he provided, trying to get over my shock and allow everything to settle. I knew that I had questions, and that I had rehearsed this moment thousands of times in my mind over the years. But somehow, I suddenly didn't have a clue as to what to say, where to begin.

I swallowed, still gazing at the water.

"How are you feeling, Max?" Dad asked, watching me with concern.

I could barely look at him, though. It felt so strange. He had once been my constant, then suddenly a shadow, and now he was…back.

I set down my glass on the end table to my left, then dragged a shaking hand through my hair.

"I'm…I'm…okay. I…" I tried to formulate my thoughts. "Um, I just…I don't know what to say right now."

Dad nodded slowly, staring at the floor. "I understand, Max."

I began to feel frustrated, wondering why I couldn't handle this the way I should have been - the way I had promised myself I would if ever I was granted the chance. Yet now that it was here, I was failing miserably.

"Dad, I just…" I swallowed, the title was so unfamiliar on my tongue. "Something's happened to me. I don't know where we are. I don't know when I'll be able to ask all of my questions. I don't even remember what happened before all of this. I'm scared and I don't really trust anything I see anymore…not the pain, not the bits and pieces I remember, not you sitting here with me--" my confused ramble was ended by another round of tears.

I cried silently into my hands, overcome with fear.

"Max…" I heard Dad speaking after a moment, "I had to get you out of Gotham. If you don't remember something, it's because of the trauma from the accident. There's nothing to be afraid of. You're safe here."

I frowned once I had gotten a hold of myself, my face still in my hands. Memories of a burning building resurfaced, but it was moving away, and I was in the air. Someone was carrying me, away from the scene. A black costume…similar to the Batsuit, but with a blue emblem…

I rested my hands in my lap. "I can't really remember… I know that I was Bat--" I stopped myself from revealing my alias, out of habit. But Dad was nodding knowingly.

"You were Batgirl, Max, and it was putting you in danger," he explained carefully.

I searched his eyes. "How did you know?"

Dad's gaze slid away, out the window overlooking the lake. "I orchestrated it - your kidnapping, the messages, everything that brought you here."

"Messages?" I asked more to the air than to my father, rubbing my forehead as I struggled to catch the memory.

The note, the warning. My bathroom mirror; that was where it had all begun! They didn't want me to help Batman…my dad didn't want me to become Batgirl.

And with that single piece of the puzzle in place, I suddenly recalled it all. It overcame me, rushing back to my remembrance like an electric shock. I had left off with the battle on the warehouse rooftop in Old Gotham. The girl in the faux Batsuit, the way she knew our identities, the bullet.

I touched the bandage on my lower back.

"You were behind it all…" I whispered.

Dad's eyes were on the floor. He was silent.

"You were gone for so long…and now you show up, out of nowhere…like _this_?"

"Max, there's an explanation for it all. There's a reason why I didn't come back. I didn't know what I was getting myself into when I left. But it was all with you, your sister and your mother in mind."

I stared bitterly at my hands, unable to speak. My disappointment was paramount, stifling what should have been rage.

Dad sighed, then continued. "Everything was going well, until I found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I eventually got mixed up in the underworld. I couldn't return, I was and still am a walking target, Max. To have returned home would have put you all in danger. So I went on the lam, trying to escape. I changed my name, changed my address. But they caught up with me. They made me a bargain. Either join the criminal underworld, or be killed and have my family killed," a heavy pause ensued. "I knew too much to be allowed to run free, Max. And…honestly, it was what I had been looking for all along…the chance to do something big.

"The Guardian Angel Agency is just another part of the underworld. We're undercover, unknown to the CIA or any other security agencies. We have work-for-hire agents. We call them 'guardian angels' because they protect clients on missions. We make our money by looking out for clients and ensuring that their activities progress smoothly."

I couldn't look at him.

Clients. He couldn't even call them what they were: criminals. My father was the ringleader of a criminal agency.

I felt numb, yet damaged. It was all beginning to fall into place. I wasn't stupid. My memory was back, and it didn't take long for me to reason it all out. It was as though I was on a train racing toward a cliff. The fall was about to take place, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

"What does this mean for me?" I questioned darkly, knowing this wasn't my only question, nor was it the most important. But I was still too terrified to ask what I _really_ wanted to know.

Dad pulled his hand over his face, exhaling another sigh.

"You'll be here from now on," he supplied, "to keep you safe. I couldn't let you be Batgirl, Max. You were playing with fire, you were our enemy. And I refused to let my burden cost you your life."

I was silent for a long time, my mouth going dry from anxiety. The room was spinning, although I hadn't even asked it yet. Could I really even take hearing the answer? Couldn't I just live in some sort of twisted reverie, instead? Anything but being told that he was gone…that my love had been murdered. After all, if their intent was once to kill _me_, then certainly Batman…

"Terry," I whispered, feeling my body begin to shake as the flaming building reappeared in my mind. "Is he…?"

I couldn't finish the dreaded question.

Dad didn't answer me for a long time. He looked me in the eye. What he said next quaked my very existence.

"He's dead, Max."

* * *

If I had thought that the first days at the Guardian Angel headquarters were a fog, then the weeks following the news of Terry's alleged death were a living hell. I had nearly blacked out when I learned the truth, and proceeded to struggle through dozens of emotions. I was back in the hospital ward, suffering from a severe mental breakdown. When my rage died away, I slipped into a lethargy so dark that I can't recall its fullness. I woke up one morning with ties binding my wrists; I had tried to kill myself, and was on suicide watch. I was given tranquilizers, sleeping pills, anything to safely hasten me through the shadowy days of grief. A couple of months later, and I was meeting with psychiatrists and grief counselors, although I never fully recovered. They were probably brainwashing me anyway, since they were under my father's control at the agency. I couldn't always notice the mind control, due to my lack of regard for my surroundings.

I soon had to meet with my father again, to have more questions answered and details explained. Even with all of the time that had passed, I didn't want to learn anything new. Every news flash was like a stab into my already bleeding heart.

I sat before the desk in his office. I stared into space, waiting for him to return so that I could be briefed on what lay ahead for me. It had been four months since my arrival, now. My feelings shifted everyday, but I was no longer a danger to myself or others.

Dad finally walked in, dressed in a business suit, as opposed to the casual attire he wore at our first meeting.

"We don't have to sit at the desk, Max. It's a little formal, don't you think?" he asked, trying to sound warm.

I stood slowly, then walked over to the chairs near the window, where we had sat and talked before. I rubbed my arms as Dad poured two glasses of water at the bar, still seeing the marks where I had been injected with meds.

Dad handed me my glass, then took his seat. He chewed his lip. "Well, I wanted to explain everything…what you'll be doing here…as well as to answer your questions."

I sat still, eyes down, expression blank. I hadn't spoken more than a sentence in weeks. There was no one to talk to, nothing to say.

I shifted in my chair, frowning in confusion.

_What I'll be_ doing_? What more do they want from me?_

"I'm here now," I spoke coldly, my own voice sounding unfamiliar in my ears. "What am I supposed to do?"

"You're smart, Max. You're talented, bright, and you succeeded in becoming Batgirl," he smiled slightly. "Not everyone can boast that," he sighed. "We need you to be an agent with us, a guardian angel."

I kept my eyes down. "Do you kill people?"

Dad's smile vanished as the conversation became all business. "When necessary or when we're paid to do so, yes," he answered frankly. "But you won't work that way. You'll be an overseer angel, a guardian angel, not a shadow angel."

Shadow angel, guardian angel - what was the difference? To me, they were _all_ wrong. How had I gone from being Batgirl to a criminal?

"Why do I have to work as an angel at all? I mean, I'm here, aren't I?" I pressed, finding my voice again. "I'm not a threat anymore."

Dad's expression darkened. "Max, unless you work for us, there will _always_ be a hit on your life. If you work, it will prove your loyalty. It will put it into action," he shifted his jaw. "Our clients and overseers don't want any possible traitors in our midst."

"What will stop me?" I shot quickly, looking up at him. "What makes you think I wouldn't try to disassemble this whole thing? You yourself said I'm smart, and I'm quite capable of shutting this down…" my tone fell. "I'm just like you. Anything you build, I can deconstruct. And I don't care anymore whether I live or die."

Dad clamped his hands together, then gathered a deep breath. "A serum, Max. It will keep you loyal enough to not rebel, over time. We've already been giving you small doses to curb your anger."

I swallowed, clenching my fists. And yet, I was sad…for my father, the one who used to be so moral and honest, now a criminal.

"Have they brainwashed you?"

I watched him struggle with answering me, never meeting my eyes. In silence, he stood up to put away our glasses, leaving my question in the air.

The next weeks involved moving into my own suite in the mansion, familiarizing myself with the grounds, meeting the other agents, and gradually getting back into training. Though I hadn't seen him yet, I had learned that Nick, alias "Axis," was the top guardian angel, third in command to my father. The news didn't come as much of a surprise, and I was learning that nothing could shock me in my warped life anymore.

Zeke was second in command, a man who seemed to radiate corruption. The only thing that kept me from despising my father, other than the serum, was Zeke. I saw in him a desire for control stronger than my father's. I didn't have to ask to deduce that he might have been the one who dragged my father into the business in the first place, and perhaps the one pulling the strings in the background.

I remember when I had first spotted Luna. At first, I had thought that she was Dana, with different makeup and brown hair, instead of black. That explained the look-alike who stabbed me behind Terra. Luna was the chief shadow angel, leader of the assassins. I had burned with angry when I first met her, knowing she was the one they had hired to kill Terry, the one who set off the bombs that took him away. It required all of my energy to restrain myself from attacking her, and it didn't help that she was the most evil, dangerous person I had ever met. The hatred was mutual, and we steered clear of each other, under orders from the leaders.

While everyone else my age was graduating from high school and preparing for college, I was being reprogrammed in a parallel universe. I was in the training phase, learning the ropes of the underground industry. Everything was moving in a fast-paced sort of slow motion. I was getting higher doses of the serum, and it was beginning to take affect. I didn't find myself wanting to leave the headquarters as much as I used to. It wasn't that I agreed with them, but I found no reason for leaving, nothing to run away to. I barely had anything to live for, other than knowing that Terry would have wanted me to.

* * *

I hurried out of the office, wanting nothing more than to be alone in my suite. My father and I had an argument, and I was tired of being used like a pawn, constantly briefed on things I cared nothing about, trained to use my knowledge and abilities for the underworld. There was always a meeting to attend, and rarely a moment to breathe and process.

I had been at the island headquarters for half a year now, and though the serum was manifesting itself more each month, I still felt angry over what had happened to Terry.

"India, wait!" I heard my father calling behind me as I swiftly strode down the hallway. When I turned off into the resident wing, I paused, seeing a group of agents walking up to my door. My study group. (Yes, my father even had me completing my education with college-equivalent studies amongst the younger agents.)

I quickly began to backtrack, not knowing where I was going but needing to get away. My eyes scanned the long, empty hallway. My father's office was up ahead, and he would probably be somewhere nearby.

Hearing footsteps in the distance and my name called once more, I hastily chose the door nearest me and disappeared inside. I closed it behind me, leaning my forehead against the cool, wooden surface. Standing in the dimness, I tried to clear my thoughts, to steady my breathing. Releasing the doorknob, I turned to survey my surroundings.

I was alone in a comfy office, with a familiar scent in the air. I couldn't place its origin in my tainted memories, though. Like my dad's, the study held a stretching window with a view of the lake. The sun was nearing the horizon, and the room was filled with a beautiful, calming glow.

Pulling my fingers through my recently dyed, dark hair, I walked to the cozy-looking sofa before the window. I sat with a weary sigh, staring at the lake. Gotham Lake. I remembered Terry and I riding along the shore to his forest sanctuary. I remembered our promise to meet there if we should get separated. Feeling my eyes filling with tears, I lay down into the smooth leather cushions.

As I drifted off to sleep, I clung to his memory.


	4. Chapter 3

**DesertedMirage Says: Dragon77, RedSharkBait, dispatcher652, ohgodofwriting, SiaAhn Sacham, Ferlinda the Dreamweaver, **thank you for reviewing!

I'm glad to share this continuation of _Guardian Angel_ with you. I'll try to upload the next chapter soon. I like to be a little bit ahead of myself in my writing so that the plot can hold up, even though I'm re-writing a story that's already written. There are always wrinkles to iron out. ;)

****NOTE: Before you read this, I want to remind you that this story is being told from Max's POV, _looking back_. In other words, she's relaying what happened, told in her words - _from the future_. So it's just a telling of her young adult life, having gathered most angles of the story from others. When she speaks of other characters when she isn't there physically, she is aware of what happened based on details she later picked up from those characters. So I'm just pointing this out so that there is no POV confusion or wondering how Max knows what went on in Gotham when she wasn't there, etc. **

**It's always from the first person POV (Max).**

Thanks!

* * *

Nick passed his keycard over the scanner on the door. It was already unlocked. He sighed at his absent-mindedness. He needed to be more careful to leave the door locked, especially with Luna being prone to snooping. Yet still, it wasn't as though she couldn't find her way around a locked door.

Pushing it open with an arm clothed in a rumpled, long-sleeved black shirt, he stepped into the darkness, drinking in the moment of rest before reaching for the light. He pushed up one sleeve to his elbow as his eyes adjusted. He decided to leave the light. Gently, he closed the door behind him, and strode to his desk. The sun was setting outside his window. Rubbing his face with his hands, he walked around to his chair and stared down into it, not sitting. When he looked up, he saw that the couch was occupied.

* * *

I awoke gradually, seeing a floor-to-ceiling window before my eyes. A golden lake, an exploding starburst of lavender and tan clouds. I lay still, taking it all in, breathing in the silence, the loneliness. There was a throw over me that hadn't been there before. I sat up, looking over my shoulder.

He sat at his desk, curly head in his hands. So it was Nick's office I had stumbled upon. My first instinct recalled his friendliness toward me, the way I used to trust him. Although I swiftly resumed my guard. But I still had questions to ask him, and stayed in my seat.

Nick slowly looked up, matching my gaze. It was dim, but I could see his eyes clearly. They were weary, despondent. I had never seen him look this way, not to this degree. There were moments back in Gotham when he would seem to slip into another world, a place of deep solitude. I often wondered where his thoughts traveled when he looked that way, what sorrows weighed on his mind.

I turned away from his gaze. I now knew where he had drifted off to, what enticed his sadness. I was living the exact same nightmare.

I sat unmoving, my eyes lowering to the floor. I felt tremendously miserable. It was as though it mattered not how many times my reality crashed into me - it all seemed to get worse each day. I used to have a family, people who loved me, friends, a more normal life… But now I was alone, with no one to relate to, no one to love…no one to truly believe that they loved _me._

Distantly, I began to fold the throw.

"Tell me why I should trust you," I voiced into the stillness, my tone dry yet laced with yearning, a hope, no matter how frivolous. No one could act that well and not actually hold any part of their facade in their being. No, I needed to believe that some part of Nick had been real.

"Why would you want to anymore?" he returned equally as sorrowfully.

I swallowed, tracing the edge of the throw with my fingers. "I don't let go of people that easily…no matter what they become."

"I never enjoyed lying to you," he replied quickly.

I lowered my forehead into my hands as he spoke.

"I never wanted to hurt you…"

I turned back around to face him, confused with his earnestness. He was an agent with a deadly underworld business, and yet, now that there was no longer anything to lie about, he was still just as sincere…just as true. I couldn't understand it, but I wanted to. I wanted to understand him, to find the honest person I had met a year in the past.

"Please tell me who you are." My voice was nearly begging.

Nick looked me in the eyes, then stood up, slowly walking past me to the window. One hand slid into his pocket, the other arm rested on the glass. My eyes followed his silhouette.

"Everything I said is true, about my upbringing. I was born in Manhattan, then went off to school in Italy, where my family is from. I was on a student visa, since my mother wanted me to attend her high school. But that was longer ago than I told you. When I graduated, I came back to the States to go to college. I was interested in criminal justice, and ended up joining the CIA.

"I was following cases of international jewel theft. To make a long story short, one in particular led me to spying on the GAA. My job was to create a false identity and make a faux offer to the agency for their services," he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning one shoulder against the window, head down. "My cover was blown, though, and I was nearly put to death. That was when your dad had just taken over as CEO. He took pity on me and ordered that I join the agency, so as not to allow my report to reach the CIA nor my life to be taken."

"He made you the top agent to decrease the likelihood of rebellion?" I asked, now familiar with how my father operated.

Nick's lack of a reply confirmed my guess.

_It's been four years since my dad left home…_

"How old are you?" I questioned.

"Twenty-two."

I stared dully at my hands. Nick's life had been turned upside down as well.

"Did buying me a new laptop have anything to do with this?"

"I had to get you a new one or get a hold of the old one. Running into you and breaking it was an improvisation, though," he attempted a smile. "I didn't know you were going to be carrying it that day."

"But why did you need access to my laptop?"

"There was footage on it of one of our missions."

"I don't remember--"

"You were helping Batman on a mission one night, and the feeds got switched. You recorded the footage to show to Wayne, but we brainwashed you so that you wouldn't remember."

I shook my head slowly. It was unbelievable how much they had kept on top of things.

"That must be why Luna posed as Dana - she wanted to 'borrow' my laptop," I murmured. "Did you use the new laptop to brainwash me?"

"Yes, only once…the night of the explosion. I set it to wake you up, and once you flew off to the warehouse, I came into your room to destroy it so that there wouldn't be any evidence."

I looked up at him, eyebrows lifted. "You did all of this when I was asleep?"

He shrugged vaguely. "I'm an agent. Stealth is my job."

I combed my thoughts, trying to remember that night more clearly.

"But Terry had come in to check on me, hadn't he?"

"Yes. But I went in right before him to open your laptop and set it near the bed."

I nodded wryly. So that's why it had been open when I awoke.

"What about the CIA? Couldn't they trace you here?"

Nick shrugged. "Not really. The GAA is like a black hole. Once you're in, there's no getting out, and no light for anyone to find you," he explained somberly, rubbing his jaw. "But if they did, I'd be a dead man. All of us are safer here."

I gave a skeptical smirk. "You sound like my father."

"He's right," Nick swiftly returned, facing me. His eyes were shadowed. "If you had stayed in Gotham, you would have surely been killed. The plans had been made. It was only a matter of days," he sighed, turning back to the window. "Your father's back was against the wall. His only option was to bring you here, or else you would have been taken out."

"Was it really that serious?" I dared, still unwilling to believe the gravity.

"You're the daughter of the leader of one of the deadliest underground agencies in the world," he faced me again. "Do you think it would have been that hard for them to find you?

I looked away.

Nick walked back to his desk with a heavy sigh. "I'm wanted with the law. My only choice is to cooperate here… They wouldn't let me leave even if I wanted to."

"You got the serum too?" I inquired softly.

Nick stared at the desktop for a moment. I sensed I had touched on a sensitive subject.

"I did," he answered softly, honestly. "But not as much as everyone else," he paused, considering. "I guess…it depends on loyalty, as well. Sometimes they don't need the serum, if there's no instigator that would cause the person to want to risk death by leaving."

I felt a lump in my throat. If he was alive, Terry would have been _my_ instigator, and his death the reason why I needed such high doses of mind-control. They didn't want me to rebel out of revenge.

"Was that you flying me away from the scene?"

Nick nodded slowly, and a long pause hovered in the air.

"I didn't mind getting you out of danger, though, even if it was hard for me to lie to you."

I listened as he spoke again, now running my fingers through my dark locks.

"I had to learn everything about you. It was my job to watch you before I came. I had to know you ahead of time, your past, your personality…yet still I learned even more when I met you."

"What did you learn?" I asked quietly, gazing at the vanishing glow over the water.

"That I'm in love with you."

* * *

Terry straightened his tie, blue eyes staring absently into the dresser mirror. He was headed for his best friend's memorial service, something he never dreamed would happen. Something he dreaded attending.

He pushed his arms through the black jacket of his suit, moving carefully as he did so. His broken left arm was bound by a cast, and a sling sat on the bed. Terry scooped it up and put it on, then began to leave his room. He paused when he remembered his phone. He turned to retrieve it from where it sat on the bedside table. Terry stared for a moment; beside his phone was a framed digital photo album which still showcased smiling pictures of us. Pictures we had taken in our last days together.

Terry's gaze fogged slightly with tears as he touched the frame. He swallowed back the lump forming in his throat, then quickly swiped the phone as he left. Terry had been in a robotic state since the accident, off and on. When he wasn't numb, he was either furious or depressed.

That night re-played like a movie, every day. He couldn't stop the result in the daytime, but at night, when he dreamed, he always managed to take the bullet intended for him.

Terry still wasn't completely sure of how he had survived the explosion. He had been briefed on what had happened by Bruce in the beginning, since his traumatized mind couldn't recall the details. He had been thrown from the rooftop when the explosions erupted, and must have gotten into his bat mobile in a stupor. The suit was still undergoing repairs, and he had yet to return to the job, due to his injuries.

He picked up Bruce en route to the church. Both men sat in silence as the car moved along. Terry kept his focus on the road. It was a beautiful day, oddly enough. Just the kind of day that Terry knew I had always loved. A few scattered, wispy clouds hung in a bright, blue sky.

"They concluded the investigation yesterday," spoke Bruce, jarring Terry's wandering thoughts.

Terry's muscles tensed. He glanced over.

Bruce looked out the passenger window, hands wrapped around his cane. "No DNA evidence."

Terry felt a delayed leap in his chest. A glimmer of hope had penetrated the gloom. No DNA evidence meant no way of proving that I had been killed…meaning I was still alive, right?

"No-no evidence?" Terry repeated softly, trying to keep the car steady at surprise of the news.

"McGinnis…" Bruce quickly voiced again, this time facing his successor, "Terry," he seemed to struggle with adjusting his usually neutral tone to one of solace. "I don't want you to…" Bruce sighed. "They've searched for weeks now, and there have been no leads."

"And no DNA evidence, either," Terry quickly inserted, gazing at the stretching road ahead, bathed in the brilliant sunshine.

They arrived at the church, and the conversation ended.

* * *

Terry had thought it was denial, at first. He thought that the hope in his heart was a delusion. But the news of the investigation results quickly dashed that notion. No, he was almost certain now. I was alive, somewhere. I was out there. And he had determined to find me.

The memorial service was long, touching, and filled with many tears. My mom had rushed back home at news of the accident, and most of the school was there. Also in attendance were Terry's family, Bruce, Barbara Gordon, and people I hadn't even met.

After a meal for the closest family and friends, Terry and his mother stayed at my apartment to help Mom and Alicia with the clean-up. Bruce had told both of our families about our secret identities. Terry remembered the initial grief following that night, when he had first seen my mom. He had apologized through his tears, for not being able to save me. She was quick to tell him that none of what had happened was his fault.

"Do you want these sandwiches put away, Valerie?"

Mom turned at Mrs. McGinnis' inquiry, busy with clearing the table of left-over cups of punch.

"Sure, that's fine," she responded, then smiled wearily. "Thanks for your help, Mary. You know Alicia and I'd have a big mess on our hands if it wasn't for you and Terry helping out."

"Oh, think nothing of it," waved Mrs. McGinnis.

Terry paused in his lifting of chairs from the den to the kitchen, watching my mom.

"I'll get the rest of that, Mrs. G. Why don't you go sit down and rest?" he offered gently.

But Mom gave him a grateful smile and shook her head. "With that arm? Terry you're doing enough as it is. I've got it--"

"Val', you know we've got it under control," added Mrs. McGinnis.

"Yeah, Mom, you should get some sleep," Alicia suggested softly, her eyes down on her task of wiping the table.

Mom sighed, wiping her forehead with her arm. "I guess so…" she sounded reluctant, then turned to gratefully embrace Mrs. McGinnis, then Terry and Alicia before leaving for her room.

A few minutes later, once almost all had been straightened and cleaned, Mrs. McGinnis announced that she was heading home to check on Matt.

Terry had just finished vacuuming the den, and returned to the kitchen to see if there was anything left to do.

Alicia was cleaning the rest of the countertops now, of which Terry was sure had already been cleaned.

He lowered himself slowly into a chair at the table, watching her with concern. He wasn't used to this Alicia. She was lifeless and depressed. While no one close to me had taken the news easily, she was the only one seemingly still stuck in the first stages of grief. Terry knew how close Alicia and I had been, and that she had been crushed by the whole incident. After all, she had worried about me ahead of time by knowing of my secret job.

Terry stared down at his hands. He had been wanting to say something to her, something to help. But he didn't know what to say, really, not even with the recent news of the lack of DNA evidence to lift his own hopes.

Terry wasn't sure of what to do. He and Alicia hadn't ever really gotten along…

"Need any help?" he asked lightly, scooting back his chair a little.

Alicia paused for a second, slowly shaking her head.

Terry rubbed his neck. "Um…" he racked his brain for some sort of ice-breaker. "I took the trash out earlier, so that's--"

"Someday I'll ask you," Alicia interrupted unexpectedly.

Terry sat still, waiting patiently for her to continue. She had stopped with the cleaning, now standing and staring at the floor.

"When I'm…ready…I'll ask you…what her…what she…what it was like for her," she pulled a hand over her hair, wrestling to speak the difficult words, "when it happened."

Terry looked up at her, seeing the tears forming in her eyes.

"I pretty much failed, Terry. Now she's gone…" she poured in an aching tone. "I didn't get to say goodbye or tell her I was sorry for being such a crap example and I--" Alicia's voice was caught as she began to cry into her hands.

Terry chewed his lip for an awkward moment, then stood and walked over. He reached out to hug her.

"I know she was your best friend, Terry, but Max was also my little sister," Alicia whispered through her tears.

* * *

Terry hesitated before the microphone, looking out at the faces staring up at him at the podium. The tassel of his hat swung as he turned his head to survey the audience. Chelsea and Dana sat in the third row, wiping at their eyes. The stands of the outdoor football stadium were filled with family and guests, and the green field dotted with chairs of his fellow students.

He swallowed as his eyes traveled down to the notes he had prepared the night before. The principal had asked him to deliver a speech in my honor, since I had been leading our class in grades. The new Valedictorian and Salutatorian had just given their speeches.

The sun peeked out from behind the clouded sky, and Terry began, "To the class of 2040, congratulations. I was asked to speak today, to stand on Max's behalf…" his eyes scanned his notes. He swallowed, looking back out at the students and family. "And I wish she was still here to speak," he veered, turning over his notes face-down, "because I bet she had a really shway speech planned out."

The crowd smiled with soft laughter at Terry's leading.

It was quiet again, as Terry began to feel his heartbeat slow and muscles relax. He smiled a little to himself.

"This was the kind of moment that Max probably practiced in front of her mirror. This was her acceptance speech, her big moment. But you know? While Max was really good at studying and dedicated to school, she was also extremely brave.

"I grew up with Max, she was my best friend. And she was always selfless. When my dad died, even though she was going through her own hardships, she made sure I wasn't going through it alone. I remember how she used to always tell me that I could call her any time, even if it was the middle of the night, if I needed to talk. Lots of my friends told me that, but Max was the only one who really meant it.

"And I took her up on it. I called her one night when I couldn't sleep, and we just talked. She got me to laugh instead of cry, and yet she was there when I needed to cry," Terry swallowed again, placing his hands on the sides of the podium. "I got caught up in stuff a little later. I got into trouble with the wrong crowd. Max stayed on my case about it, and I hurt others around me because of my choices. And I think I hurt her most, because we were so close, and because she saw me as being better than that - as above that.

"She was my best friend always, but especially when I was dealing with my dad being gone. She was brave enough to stay with me, and the ultimate reason why I gave up that life…" Terry paused with a small sigh. "I loved her for a lot of reasons. She was different, caring, resilient, dedicated. I don't think there was anything she was never able to stand up to and overcome," he gave a small smile at the remembrance of our lighthearted training sessions in the Batcave. "And most of you won't ever really know just how much she gave of herself to others.

"But while Max always encouraged me to be my best, I know that she'd want to do the same today for you. And I don't just mean that by what you do with your life after today. I guess I'm asking you to not take anything for granted. I know it's cliché, and that you've heard that a lot in your senior year. But it applies to so much more. You don't know how much your actions influence someone else, so make sure you don't let anyone slip away, and that you don't drive anyone away.

"So to the graduating class of 2040," he concluded with a long, confident gaze across the crowd. "Never give up on yourself or anyone you love, because you never know whose life you may change, just like Max changed mine."


	5. Chapter 4

**DesertedMirage Says: **I got a lot of writing done (well, a lot for me, at least). It was cloudy, raining and wonderful here the other day. Absolutely the type of weather that makes writing and plotting effortless. :)

Thank you as always to everyone reading, and thank you as well to these wonderful people for reviewing: **ohgodofwriting, dispatcher652, Dragon77, bubbles'cute, Silverquickstar, SiaAhn Sacham.** I appreciate you.

I have to thank my second eyes and mind, **ohgodofwriting, **for helping with fine-tuning this story, as always.

****  
And by the way, I'm sure many of you are probably wanting to see a classy, cute Chelsea/Terry pairing. Well guess what? It's being done beautifully in _Butterfly Wings: A Chelsea Story._ Visit **ohgodofwriting's** profile or check the front page to read it. She'll be posting more soon. :) Oh, and don't forget to review as well to tell her what you think!

* * *

Terry yawned from exhaustion, dropping his sports bag at the door in his room. A hefty pile of college homework greeted him when he fell onto the bed, the papers crumpling under his weight.

He lay on his back, hands pressed to his forehead, trying to massage the sleepiness away. Sirens wailed somewhere in the night outside his window, but the apartment was silent. His beside clock displayed 1:26 AM. Two months into college, one month into being Batman again. And despite the fact that he was applying himself to his schoolwork more than he had in high school, he was still the guy who walked into his first class ten minutes late.

Terry allowed his eyes to close, and my face immediately appeared from the darkness.

Sleepily, he reached up to rub his sore neck, recalling for the first time in months the unfamiliar lack of a leather strand. The necklaces he had bought for us. Mine a heart-shaped pendant, his an arrowhead. If you listened to one while the other was wearing it, you could hear their heartbeat.

Before Terry could contemplate them any further, his thoughts were coaxed into sleep.

* * *

"Looks like somebody's got a fan," Terry mused while walking alongside Chelsea through the noisy cafeteria of Gotham Community College.

Chelsea's blue eyes lingered on the attractive guy from her English class who had just strode over to strike up conversation, now walking away.

"I wish," she admitted while pulling on her yellow leather jacket, then smirked. "Too bad I'll be gone after this first year. Dad hates that I'm here anyway, even if it's just for general ed classes."

Terry smiled as they walked outside into the nippy autumn air. He wiped a strand of black hair from his forehead; it was slightly longer now, with a downward, natural hang, as opposed to being neatly combed. He had spent his summer in intense training, and had begun more focused study of martial arts and weightlifting. His goal was to be more powerful as Batman, since the criminal world was becoming more sophisticated and deadly. He also went to his forest sanctuary every week, holding to our promise to meet there. Though I never showed, he kept going anyway, sometimes to clear his thoughts and come up with new ideas on where I could be.

"The way that guy was staring at you, wouldn't be surprised if he transferred right along with you," he shrugged as they searched for their cars in the vast parking lot.

Chelsea let out a short laugh. "If only life were that simple, eh?"

Terry nodded with a lengthy yawn, pulling his backpack up onto his shoulders.

"The parking here sucks, though," noted Chelsea when they finally arrived at her dark blue Jeep (Terry's car was stationed a few spaces over). "I thought college was supposed to be better than this."

"It is," returned Terry as he leaned against the car, staring out at the prestigious Gotham University, which was just across the street from their community college. "Just not at this one."

"Guess so." Chelsea opened her door and climbed behind the wheel. "Have any more classes today?"

Terry shook his head. "Nope, I'm off to shoot some hoops with the guys."

"Oh," she looked uninterested, and pushed the keycard into the ignition. "Well when will you be done?"

Terry lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "Don't know. Is something planned?"

"Just a study group at The Flame Thrower. Wanna' crash it? We never really get a whole lot done, so it wouldn't be too boring."

"Chelse, I dunno'--"

"Terry. All you do is go to school, work, study, and 'shoot hoops with the guys,'" she observed with a friendly laugh, then added gently, "Honestly, don't you ever have fun?"

Terry poked the toe of his sneakers on the wheel of the car. "I just don't wanna' barge in or--"

"C'mon, McGinnis, they won't bite - and I think you'd like them," she smiled. "I'll see you at six, 'k?"

Before Terry could insert an excuse, Chelsea began to back out of the parking space and drive off.

* * *

Terry stepped inside of the swanky, chill college hangout, "The Flame Thrower." It was a cafe that served mostly chicken dishes with spicy twists. He had been there a few times, but never to meet with a college study group. Although he was no longer in high school, sometimes the world of higher education was still intimidating and unfamiliar.

Sliding his hands into the pockets of his fitted red hoodie, he searched the crowded tables for the group.

"McGinnis, up here."

Terry furrowed his brow, looking up.

Chelsea was standing with arms folded atop the balcony railing of a loft, grinning. Terry walked up the steps leading to the upper level, where it was slightly quieter.

"VIP access?" joked Terry with a small smile when Chelsea met him at the top. The only individuals seated up there were members of the study group.

"You could say that," Chelsea replied, then lead him to the table. "Guys, this is Terry. Terry, this is Thomas, Mischa and Ivan, my study group from Philosophy class."

Terry nodded politely to the group, shaking their hands before taking a seat. They ordered food after a few minutes of chatting, and Terry quickly learned why Chelsea had said that they weren't the average study group. While they didn't exactly discuss their philosophy homework, they did talk about intellectual topics. Terry even felt comfortable enough to join in a few times. All three students were kind and humorous, and Terry was glad that he had accepted Chelsea's invitation.

About an hour later, the group dispersed, leaving Chelsea and Terry sitting with the remnants of finger food.

Chelsea sipped on her raspberry tea, then looked questioningly at Terry. "So... Better than being hunched over research papers that aren't due until the end of the semester?"

Terry leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs before him. He chuckled. "Yeah. Your friends are pretty shway."

Chelsea grinned, relieved. "Good," she munched on one of the last chicken tenders. "You're the only person I know who's working ahead. You've gotta' be Superman to do that in college."

Terry smiled a little at her unintentional irony. "No, Superman's got powers. All I have is drive--"

"And a little skill, admit it. I hear you're doing pretty well and even tutoring others in class."

Terry scratched his cheek, feeling a little embarrassed. "It's just different in college, Chelse. No big," he modestly brushed away the praise, reaching for a French frie. "Who'd you hear that from anyway?"

"Your mom, who else? I shoot her an email every now and then, asking the questions about your well-being that you'd never answer truthfully," Chelsea revealed with ease.

Terry sighed. "Why am I not surprised that I'm being stalked?" he pretended to sound vain.

Chelsea rolled her eyes.

Terry finished the rest of his soda, then gazed down at the tables below on the ground level. It was a little past eight o'clock, and closing time was approaching...as well as Batwork. Terry was glad to have gotten some time to relax before work, though.

Chelsea's phone rumbled the tabletop, and she reached to answer it. Terry listened half-heartedly; he gathered it to be a call from a guy.

A large party stood up from their table below and exited the building. Terry's eyes remained focused on where they had sat, specifically the table just behind theirs. He couldn't see before, but two girls sat there, chatting over smoothies. Terry's gaze was locked on the girl on the left.

"...yeah, okay, I'll be awake. Just make sure you don't hang up just because I don't answer on the first ring like you did the last time," Chelsea concluded her conversation with a playful giggle, then slid her phone away into her purse.

She glanced up at Terry. "Looks like you were right after all - that was my 'fan.'"

But Terry was sitting up straighter now, staring intently over the railing, eyes somber.

Chelsea frowned, following his gaze. A girl with green eyes and a short, tousled bob - bright pink. Chelsea bit her lip, knowing where Terry's thoughts were. She swallowed a little herself, still struggling with the fact that I was gone.

"I saw Alicia in the grocery store the other day, I forgot to tell you..." said Chelsea quietly.

Terry's eyes moved away slowly from the girl. He cleared his throat. "Yeah?"

"She asked about you, how you were doing, if you were liking school and stuff," Chelsea continued, twirling her straw and staring at the glossy wooden tabletop. "I think she used to go to Gotham Community College before she transferred to Gotham U."

"Yeah."

"It was kinda' good seeing her, you know? Sort of...like, I don't know. Like being...near Max."

Terry was quiet, rubbing a thumb along the band of his watch. Sometimes he struggled with remembering that I was out there, with his determination to not give up on me. Sometimes, being the only one who was standing on my behalf took a toll on his strength. What everyone didn't know was that he wasn't just slaving over school, but researching every place he thought I could be. Combing Old Gotham for clues, spying on gangs, kidnappers - anything that could lead him to me. But it wasn't easy for him to be out on a limb by himself. Who else would he tell, though? While Bruce was the most rational choice, he wasn't exactly the most understanding as of late. Terry knew how much Bruce didn't want any sentiments to get in the way of dangerous work, and the former Batman held a valid point. But still...Terry wished someone could understand him and support him in his search efforts...

"We get along better than before, Alicia and I," Terry forced himself to add to the topic, knowing that talking tended to help divert his thoughts.

Chelsea nodded, smiling gladly. "That's shway, Ter."

Terry smiled a little, then stood up and began to gather the trays. "Yeah...um, well, guess I'd better be going."

Chelsea stood as well. "Me too - oh, don't worry about that, Ter. They bus the tables here."

He chuckled. "That always helps."

Outside of the eatery, they parted ways, but Terry still wrestled with the desire of telling Chelsea of his hopes that I was alive.

* * *

They say it takes forty days for something to become habit. But with the help of the agency's mind-control serum, it took only twenty for my new habits to solidify.

Oddly enough, taking the serum was solely up to me after a month or so of receiving it from the ward. Their justification for leaving this responsibility in my hands? Withdrawal. The serum was addictive. Being without it could send the body and mind into torment, and maybe even death. They weren't sure of the end result; no one taking it long-term had ever tried to stop cold turkey.

I injected myself monthly now, never really even considering trying to stop and attempt to combat the withdrawal. As with any act of rebellion while under the serum's influence, stopping would have taken some sort of catalyst to grant me the audacity to risk the consequences. Six months into being at the headquarters, I hadn't yet found a catalyst or reason to quit. But it wasn't as though the thought hadn't crossed my mind to try to use my knowledge to somehow outsmart the serum. Maybe I could alter the toxicity or create an antidote…

Memories were fading more each day, specifically memories of Terry. When I noticed this happening, I quickly began a diary, which I kept hidden in my bedroom suite. I wrote a "letter" to him every morning, or at night. I recorded any dreams, as they were quickly becoming my only reminders of my past life. And I even tried to master drawing realistic profiles, although drawing had never come naturally to me. I was sketching Terry's face, and finally came up with a couple of life-like portraits after a few months and many tries. They, too, were hidden in my room. As long as I could look at them, I could remember his face.

The memories came like déjà vu. They would dance into my thoughts while I was awake, only to immediately scatter away. As time went on, I wasn't always sure if the memories were true or false, but when I did manage to grasp onto them, I recorded them anyway.

I had a page in my diary for anyone who came across my mind, mainly people closest to me. They held notes, stories, memories - anything I could think of. There was a page for my mom, Alicia, Chelsea, Dana, Mrs. McGinnis. It was easy to envision them, and I found myself remembering them stronger and more clearly. It was Terry who was fading without my efforts to keep him alive. But then, I knew that this was all part of my father's goal for the serum.

Sometimes I did wonder why the agency was so intent upon making me forget someone who was dead, though…

I secured my wrists behind my back, bound by a tie. A blindfold shrouded my view with blackness, and I stood in an empty training simulator. I waited for a noise, using my sense of sound and touch as my guide.

Air brushed against my skin from the right, I twisted and kicked. A punching bag that had been swinging toward me hit the floor at my impact.

I waited for the next signal. This time I heard the swing of the chain, diagonally behind me, to the left. I whirled and ducked, then kicked. Another bag on the ground. This was where it got harder. Two bags, closing in on me from both sides. Feeling the rush of air and hearing the sounds, I bent and dodged, laying on my back. Throwing my legs, I pounded both. One succeeded to hit me as I stood up, but I swiftly flung a leg at it, knocking it down. Ten minutes passed, with more bags being added, moving faster toward me. When it was over, I untied my wrists, then slid the blindfold down to rest on my collar.

My forehead was warm and dotted with perspiration, my dark hair drenched in sweat. I dragged my hands down my face, feeling the silver stud in my recently pierced nose.

I heaved a sigh as my breathing calmed and energy refueled. Agent training finals were three weeks away. I had to be ready to pass the final test, or else I could say hello to more training in the simulator. I wasn't excited to be an actual working guardian angel, but I was ready to get off of the island and back into the real world, even if it was as a criminal.

They called it, "earning your wings" when you passed the final test. But you had to be well-rounded - trained not just physically and emotionally, but mentally. The agency courses pushed you further than any university, and I was a couple of years ahead of my peers. But every drop of my being was totally drained and exhausted.

I tied my hair into a ponytail with the blindfold, then left the simulator room. Entering the gym, I dropped and began my one-arm push-ups routine.

* * *

Terry was deep in study one Saturday night, preparing an essay for his demanding history class. His eyes burned slightly from staring at his laptop screen for so long. Finally, he stood up from his desk to take a break, stretching his arms at his sides.

He had been meeting with Chelsea and her study group on a regular basis now, and was getting along well with his new friends. Thomas turned out to be a sports fanatic (as was Terry) and Ivan aspired to be a physical trainer. Mischa was witty and creative, and he could tell that she was romantically interested in Thomas.

Terry was still trying to figure out what he wanted to major in after completing his basic studies. He was interested in criminal justice, but he had a desire to help individuals one on one. Terry had spoken with Ivan about it once, asking him what had drawn him into aspiring to be a trainer. Mischa had heard their chat, and asked Terry if he would consider a medical career, stating that she believed he would make a great doctor. After all, he was easygoing, youthful, yet resolute. Terry had shrugged off the suggestion at first. The coursework for being a doctor was way too challenging, and more-so something _I_ would do, not Terry…right?

Terry scooped up his phone as he slid onto his bed, preparing to text Chelsea and ask her how her day had progressed. She'd finally had a date the night before with the guy from her English class.

As his thumbs typed the message, the phone vibrated with an incoming call.

Terry spotted the number and immediately recognized it. My home phone number.

"Hello?"

"Hi Terry, it's Mrs. Gibson."

Terry sat up with a smile. He hadn't spoken with my mom in quite a few months, not since a low-key eighteenth birthday dinner he'd had with a few close family and friends. It was also held with my memory in mind, since Terry and I shared a birthday.

"Hey, Mrs. G. How are you doing?"

"Oh doing fine. How's your first college semester going?"

"Busy, but good," he admitted. "I'm trying juggle everything without wearing myself out."

"That's understandable," my mom replied knowingly, aware of his secret job. "Well I was wondering if you'd like to come over and join Alicia and I for dinner tomorrow night. I know you're still at home with your family, but college can make home-cooked meals few and far-between - no matter where you live. Plus it'd be nice to see you again and catch up."

Terry had listened with a small smile. He appreciated my mom reaching out to him.

"That sounds great. I don't have anything planned for tomorrow night. I'll be there."

"Sounds good, Terry. Is five alright?"

"Five is fine. Thanks, Mrs. G."

Dinner that Sunday night went smoothly and pleasantly for Terry, my mom and my sister. They talked lightly about college, Alicia giving Terry insight into what to expect from his school, telling of her own plans to go back, and my mom announcing her new employment with Gotham Library. Conversation didn't shift directly to me, although Terry could almost feel my presence, what with being back in my old home and with my family.

After a dessert of brownies and ice cream, Terry sat reading through a brochure Alicia had provided from Gotham Medical School, after learning of his slight interest in a medical career. Mom and Alicia were clearing the table (Terry had offered his help to no avail).

Alicia left to take a phone call in her room, and Terry closed the brochure with a sigh.

"What do you think?" asked Mom while loading the dishwasher. Alicia looked more like our mom than I did, and they both had a broad, pretty smile and dark, curly hair.

Terry sighed while scratching his neck. "Wow, it's…uh…really…"

"A bit challenging?" she guessed.

Terry laughed a little. "Sort of… But it looks interesting."

Mom closed the dishwasher. "Well, I know that whenever you've set your mind to something, you've always achieved it," she encouraged.

Terry smiled his thanks, turning over the brochure in his hands. "I'll keep thinking about it."

Mom nodded.

"I'd probably better get going," Terry consulted his watch, then hesitated, knowing there was something he wanted to do before he left. "I, um…I was kinda' wondering if it'd be alright if I went in…went in Max's room again," he asked carefully.

Mom smiled very lightly, sadly, and nodded slowly. "Of course, Terry. You're always welcome here."

Terry rose to leave the kitchen, then paused and turned. "Thanks, Mrs. G."

Terry stood at the closed door of my room for a few long seconds. He gathered a deep breath before touching the knob and entering.

As soon as he opened the door, my familiar fragrance washed over him, bringing along with it a flourish of memories so strong he had to take hold of the doorknob behind him.

Everything was the same as I had left it, as though I had never gone away, and was merely awaiting my return. It was neat and organized, the bed made, surfaces dusted. My mom must've been keeping it clean. Terry sighed shakily as he realized that he hadn't been in there since that night, since he had come through the window to check on me.

Slowly, he walked inside and reached to turn on the lamp, illuminating the room in a serene, gentle glow.

Terry set a palm on the cool surface of my purple comforter, then sat on the bed. He remembered my tear-stained cheeks when he last saw me laying there after the way I ran out of the school, out of his arms. His eyes closed on the painful memory. He didn't like remembering that day, that depiction of me. He opened his eyes, allowing his gaze to meander the room, the desk where he had sat me down after my shock at seeing the message on my mirror, the door which he had torn open to make his escape after the music prank he had pulled to wake me up for training. He found his lips smiling, and finally he allowed himself to relax into the bitter sweetness of the moment.

His emotions were shifting, his thoughts recalling that final battle on the rooftop, the exploding gunfire when I collapsed into him.

Terry had to take a moment to bridle the anger thrashing inside of him, the anger toward whatever force that kept me away. He latched onto a memory of my smile, my laughter, and felt himself growing calmer.

Terry continued to sit a few minutes more, and ended up laying in the pillows, breathing in the flowery smell of my hair. Closing his eyes again, he could almost feel me beside him, my voice in his ears, my face in his mind.

"Max," he whispered, then slowly opened his eyes. The tears were free to fall down his cheeks. Brushing them away, Terry saw the nightstand clearly. He stared for a full minute before he realized what he was looking at on its surface. A silver chain, a heart-shaped pendant.

He swallowed back the warm lump in his throat, slowly sitting up. His tormented heart could barely believe it, but there it lay, innocently pointing him toward me.

_Our lips locked for a moment, and I placed my hand on Terry's collar, feeling his heartbeat. My fingers touched the arrowhead pendant of his heartbeat necklace._

_We slowly drew away, and I smiled. "Can I wear it?"_

_Terry glanced down at the necklace, then shrugged, pulling it over his head. "Sure, what for?"_

_I smiled. "As a sign that I'm yours, you know, like the couples do in old movies - the girl wears his pin or his ring…"_

_Terry slid the necklace over my head and onto my neck, smiling. "Alright, it's yours."_

Reaching out a trembling hand, Terry gently took the necklace and slid it safely into his pocket, then left the room.


	6. Chapter 5

**DesertedMirage Says: **Thank you to **bubbles'cute, dispatcher652, Dragon77** for reviewing, and thank you to all who are reading.

I wrote so much this weekend that I can hardly type out this author's note! I think I've given myself another reading disorder. I'm going to go sit in the dark and stare into space for a while to soothe my eyes lol. But I will update again very soon. I've made up my mind to get this moving quickly with new chapters more often. I'm having such a great time!

* * *

Alicia sat cross-legged on the edge of her bed, staring at her cell phone beside her. Unfinished college applications were open on her laptop screen. She pushed the computer away, resting it atop her pillow. Sighing tiredly, she stretched out to lay on her side, propping her head on her elbow, gazing miserably at the cell phone.

He was about to call - Justin, her boyfriend of nearly four years. She dreaded speaking with him. She wasn't sure of why they were still together. Alicia knew that she loved him, but loving someone didn't always equal happiness.

Alicia reached for the phone, nervously closing her hand around it. She was considering what she had always dared herself to do, to finally make her escape and live in the freedom she deserved. Her throat quivered as she swallowed roughly.

Justin was subtle with his control over Alicia. He wasn't blatantly cruel to her, but instead he was keen to play his game behind the scenes. She had always been a sort of trophy of his, and she knew for a fact that she wasn't the only one in his collection. On the outside, Alicia had denied it, although her heart said otherwise. Every time Justin had apologized and begged her forgiveness, she had failed to stand her ground and say no. But she always tried to convince herself that she had her life under control. After all, she had his attention. Maybe not his love, but attention would suffice...wouldn't it?

Alicia's fingers hung over the keypad to call him before he could call her, to tell him she was leaving him. She had nearly done so hundreds of times, but never succeeded in following through.

Alicia shifted her jaw, feeling her heart begin to panic. Her eyes closed, her hand pulled away from the phone.

She rose to her feet, feeling the familiar defeat as she mindlessly paced the floor, sliding her hands through her long, dark curls. She grabbed her stereo remote and listlessly switched on one of her favorite throwback artists, allowing the mellow music to soothe her guilt.

Everything felt ten times harder since I had left. Alicia once had to will herself to get out of bed in the morning. And only recently had she begun to make steps to re-apply to a college.

She paused before her window, staring out at the urban rooftops in the cloudy evening. Her mind drifted to Justin once more, to her senior year in high school. The pressure had been so immense to maintain her outstanding grades. But Justin had been her release, as well as the one who introduced her to drugs. She recalled never blaming him for it, never once thinking that he might not be the best for her. And though she knew that she had always been responsible for her own actions, she also knew that she harbored a tremendous fear of not blaming herself for _everything_ wrong in her life. Being trapped with Justin was her fault, getting addicted to drugs, our father walking away, not setting the best example for me... To Alicia, deep inside, she felt that she was to blame for it all.

The doorbell chimed, and she left her room, moving through the hallway. Mom should have been getting back from grocery shopping by then, and probably didn't have any free hands to use her keycard.

Not bothering to check the peephole, Alicia casually pulled open the door.

She stood perfectly still, agape. Enrique Vasquez...?

He stood with a serious expression on his handsome, tanned face, looking contrite. Alicia noticed the basket of flowers in his arm.

"Um...hi," he spoke hesitantly, glancing down at the floor. "I...I hope I'm not coming at a bad time, but I had just heard about Max and I wanted to offer my condolences..."

Alicia swallowed, then nodded slowly. "Oh..."

When her voice faded into silence, Enrique continued to stand awkwardly.

"These are for you and your family." He extended the flowers.

Alicia shook away astonishment as she accepted the basket, then remembered her manners. She quickly stepped out of the way for him to enter.

"Thank you, you can come inside--"

"Oh no," Enrique swiftly declined, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. "I-I wasn't meaning to stay and impose," he stammered, speaking with his Spanish accent that was once so familiar to her.

Alicia shook her head. "Not at all. Please come in," she offered again, and this time Enrique slowly walked inside.

He sat on the couch, hands clasped in his lap. Alicia set the flowers on the coffee table.

"Can I get you anything to drink or eat?"

"No, thank you, though," Enrique smiled lightly, then his expression became serious. He looked down at his hands. Alicia stood a few feet away, not knowing what to say. Things hadn't exactly left off on the best of terms with him. She had eventually realized just how rudely he acted on the date she had set us up on, and hadn't spoken with him since.

"I, um, I wanted to apologize...for the way I treated Max..." Enrique explained genuinely. "I'm sorry that I'm saying it under these circumstances, too. I should have apologized a long time ago," he paused. "I'm very sorry about your sister, Alicia. I ask that you would forgive me, if you're willing." He looked up at her hopefully.

Alicia hugged herself slightly, then gave a small smile.

Enrique gazed sadly at the floor for a moment, then stood to his feet. "I guess I'll be leaving, then," he zipped his black leather jacket. "Please let me know if there's anything I can do."

Alicia saw him to the door, surprised that she was feeling sad to see him leaving so soon.

"Oh, um...okay. Thanks you for the flowers." She followed behind, picking at her shirt sleeve.

Touching the doorknob, Enrique turned with a gentle smile.

"It was nothing, and probably not enough," he replied quietly, regretfully.

He was about to walk out; Alicia cleared her throat. "How's your show going in LA, by the way?"

Enrique turned again, this time looking almost relieved that she had said something more.

"Oh, it's...um, not really going at all, at the moment," he admitted, attempting a chuckle.

Alicia frowned. "Oh really? I'm sorry."

Enrique shrugged with a simple smile. "It's not that bad. I got to move to Gotham for good."

Alicia eyebrows lifted slightly. "Oh? I didn't know you were still in town."

Enrique nodded, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets. "Yeah, I'm still trying to get moved in, though. But I'm glad to be here," he opened up. "It's given me time to think and reconsider some things, being away from the spotlight."

There came an uncomfortable pause, and Alicia chided herself for not knowing what else to add to the conversation.

"I didn't know you liked Corinne Bailey Rae's music too," Enrique commented out of nowhere, grinning.

Alicia's expression went blank. It was then that she heard the music still playing in her room. She felt her cheeks coloring in embarrassment.

"Yeah I really haven't listened to it in a while--" she started to lie.

"I love Corinne's music," Enrique interrupted, and Alicia smiled in return.

"Well, um, I guess you're still in school?" he asked as the atmosphere began to lighten.

"I'm sort of deciding on schools at the moment, I took a semester off..." she glanced away.

Enrique nodded. "Yeah, that can be good - to give yourself a break," he took a deep breath. "Um...would you...like to..." his sentence trailed as he stared at her for a long moment, then swallowed. "Do you still have the same phone number?" he diverted in one breath - obviously this wasn't his original question.

But Alicia was happy with this inquiry, as well as pleasantly surprised. She cleared her throat, shrugging indifferently. "Yeah, it's the same," she answered conversationally.

Enrique nodded quickly, then sighed. "Guess I'll go, then," he said for the second time. "See you later."

"Bye."

When Alicia had closed the door, she stood for a moment, then turned to lean her back against it. Her heart was racing, though she wasn't completely sure of why, or at least wasn't quite ready to admit to herself why. It was terrifying and exciting all at once.

Alicia ran her fingers through her hair, then realized with a glance down that she had been dressed in her pajamas during their talk - a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants.

She sighed heavily.

Alicia returned to her room, smiling now upon remembrance of the way his chocolate brown eyes had lit up when she revealed that her number was the same.

She found herself softly singing along with the music as she entered her room, "This could be an enchantment..."

* * *

I dropped into my swivel chair behind the desk in my office.

Office. I smirked. I wasn't sure at first why I even needed one, it had seemed like another trivial matter of indulgence in my father's universe. But I was actually beginning to enjoy the extra "me" space. Not to mention that the decorating had been left to me.

I pushed back in my chair, rolling across the floorspace to the black bookshelf behind my expansive desk. I pulled my palms over my head, lacing my fingers behind my neck. I tilted the chair to recline, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. It had the illusion of a starry night sky that particular day, and the cocoa brown walls could transform into any color or pattern at the touch of a button.

_I guess being the boss's daughter has its perks._

The burden of final exams had passed, and I was only days away from my first mission. I was an official guardian angel. No more hours of studying, no more back-breaking training (apart from standard workouts). I felt more free than I had in months, and even slightly exhilarated. I was giving up on anger, on allowing their control to irk me, on being sad. It was time to be free, for at least one day.

I allowed my lips to smile darkly as I closed my eyes, taking advantage of the serum's affects on my judgment. I knew full well that it was working in me, but I wasn't bothering to care anymore.

I breathed in the cool air, then exhaled as I stood up. I walked to my desk, opened the top right drawer, then grasped my music player and earphones. Pushing them securely into my ears, I stood before an oval, frameless mirror on the wall. I tilted my face to examine my profile, bobbing my head slightly with the music. I fingered a strand of my deep brown hair. Maybe I should add a streak of blonde…

I left the office and entered the hallway. I passed Axis' office, walking in time with the pounding heavy metal drums in my ears.

I felt like flying, like getting lost into action.

I turned the corner and entered the training wing. I maneuvered down various hallways until I reached the simulator.

Touching my palm to the recognition sensor, I stepped inside. Standing in the computer room which overlooked the vast simulator hall below, I frowned. I strode up to the window, seeing that the simulator was already occupied.

I angrily shifted my jaw, squeezing my music player in my grip.

Luna was lunging and slashing with a gleaming, solid black-metal machete. Two malfunctioning droids lay twitching in her wake, before another loomed from nowhere. Without turning to see it coming, she jumped. In one swift twisting backflip, she had sliced it in two. She replaced her sword on her belt, then began climbing the iron steps leading to the computer room. When she opened the door, I stood leaning with my shoulder against the glass window, arms crossed over my chest, trying to appear as though I hadn't been watching.

Luna paused, her glance slowly sliding over to me. I ran my tongue along my teeth, prepared for her snide remark.

"Hear you passed," she spoke in her typically condescending inflection. She smiled falsely, throwing her long, brown hair over her shoulder. "Hope you don't think this means you'll be safe from danger, India. Not all angels survive it out there," she mused, removing her machete once again and studying it up close, running a thumb along the slick blade.

I smirked just as forebodingly. "I'll be sure to remember that once I've topped you - so that I can rub it in your face,"

Luna's black, almond eyes narrowed. She sheathed her sword, then removed her memory card from the computer, watching me closely. We stared each other down before she finally smiled again, tilting up her face smugly.

"Cute, Gibson. I'll leave you to your training now, as you'll certainly be needing it."

I watched her go, scowling as I upped the volume on my music player.

After pushing my card into the computer, I tapped in my selections: 50 droids, anti-gravity, knives, 30 minutes.

I entered the hall, feeling my blood simmering with fury.

* * *

"So the answer's twelve?"

Terry grinned supportively. "What do you think?"

The timid girl smiled, then nodded quickly, tapping into the laptop the correct answer.

Terry maneuvered back to his seat in the college computer lab, but the girl suddenly poked his arm with her pen.

"Will you be here tomorrow at the same time?" she asked hopefully, pushing her glasses up on her nose. "I've got a huge Calc. test that I need to pass."

Terry shot her a joking smile. "Only if you're not asking me to help you cheat."

She blushed slightly, obviously falling victim to his good looks and charm, and nodded. "No, no. Of course not. You're a good tutor."

Terry smiled his thanks, then returned to his computer.

In the semi-quietness of the lab, only a few students were actually adhering to the sizable "STUDENTS AT STUDY" sign on the wall. Terry was glad for the bit of noise and chatter around him, though. He had never been one to study in complete silence. A smiled pulled at his lips. Perhaps that was why he used to study with me so often. We were constantly shifting topics and chatting during homework.

Our memories were never far from his thoughts, and his gaze moved from the half-finished English paper on his computer monitor to his lap, his jeans pocket. A section of the chain had slid out. Protectively, he was quick to tuck the treasured necklace back inside.

It had taken him a few days to finally harness the courage to actually bring the pendant to his ear, to risk the disappointment of not initially hearing a sound. He hadn't gotten a heartbeat. But Terry had kept listening after that first try, becoming almost addicted to checking for my signal, for my heartbeat, a confirmation that I was alive. He kept the cherished article on him wherever he went, safely hidden in his pocket.

Terry left the lab after a few more sentences were typed. He was running out of points to write on the topic, and wanted to go to the forest before Batwork.

* * *

My stomach was raging when I stepped out of the shower. I changed quickly into my black skinny jeans and a simple gray tank. I felt a jolt in my back while bending to shake the water from my lengthening hair. I grimaced, rising slowly. Maybe I had taken things a little too far in the simulator.

I swallowed back the holler of pain, as I usually did. Soreness was nothing new when it came to training.

I slid on my oversized, highly tinted shades, not feeling like putting on makeup over my weary eyes. A platinum belt hung loosely to my waist, and I stepped into my three-inch, sandal heels. With only one shoe on, I tried to buckle the other while balancing on one foot. I cursed when I began to teeter.

It was time for dinner. Dad always made a big show of gathering all of the top agents and officials together for dinner every other week.

I had dreaded it, at first. Being in the same room, sitting at the same table as Luna, was enough to make me want to upchuck my meal, and Zeke still gave me the creeps. Being around Axis wasn't any better. He was still trying to be a friend to me, and I had to make extra effort to brush him off.

But now that I was learning to find the satire in my life (lest I go insane) the group dinners had gradually become almost entertaining.

I accepted the chair Axis pulled out for me, but didn't acknowledge his gesture.

Dinner progressed with the usual general discussions. I usually only listened, rarely adding my thoughts. Zeke took it upon himself to dominate conversation, complaining about anything and everything wrong with the flawless agency protocol. Luna sat beside him, across the table from me. Axis sat, rather unfortunately, beside me. Dad was positioned at the head of the table. The talking died down when dinner arrived. Lobster, lemon rice pilaf, pink champagne.

Luna's eyes always managed to find a reason to sneak a glance over at Axis. I knew that she was also attempting to irk me.

I never met the fleeting looks Axis sent in my direction, instead keeping my eyes intentionally moving between everyone else's faces.

Dad was talking now, as we hadn't officially dismissed, even though the servants had removed the empty dessert saucers.

"India, I hear you've gotten your suit fitted and are all set to begin your first mission next week," he noted with a light smile.

I shrugged nonchalantly. My dad was horrible at relating to me, and he tried to make sure every attempt at conversation included a corny notice of my latest activities.

"Yeah, sure. I guess," I threw blindly, eager to get to my room now that the meal was over.

Zeke cleared his throat loudly, rubbing at the blond facial hair on his set jaw. "You'll have to meet with your trainer--"

"Trainer?" My eyes darted up. "But I'm done."

Luna was smirking at me, sipping coolly on her champagne.

Dad took a deep breath, knowing he was entering testy territory. "You'll have to have a guide to show you the ropes on your first mission, India."

"Oh…" I puffed, feeling relieved. "So no more intense training?"

"No," began Zeke slowly.

Dad picked up, "You'll need to have Axis accompany you, India."

I choked on my water.

_WHAT?!_

I sat, jaw hanging, unable to assemble my thoughts.

Dad sighed, massaging his forehead.

"Wh…what?!" I exclaimed, feeling my temper steadily nearing explosion.

"India--"

"Why can't I just go with another agent?! There are other agents who can help me--not to mention that I don't even _see_ why I _need_ the help! I've been locked up in that simulator, fighting my ass off, getting addicted to your stupid serum, and now you want me to train some more with… _him_?!"

The table was stagnant in the wake of my frenzied outburst. Axis was chewing uneasily at his lip, keeping his eyes down. Zeke looked offended, and Luna was glaring at the table, unhappy that Axis would be spending time with me.

But now Dad had himself been vexed. He rose to his feet, throwing his napkin.

"India, has it ever occurred to you that you're not the only one who has to struggle here?"

The air shook with our anger. I shifted my jaw, feeling as though I had been slapped across the face.

I scooted back my chair, kicking it angrily to the side. I was too upset to speak anymore, and furiously hurried out of the dining hall.

In my bedroom, I found myself crying hot tears. I was hurting, not just because I was outraged over having to be with someone whom I couldn't bare being around. No, I was also wounded and bleeding. What was wrong with my father? Why couldn't he just be the same chivalrous, supportive person he was in the past? ? Why had he suddenly "cared" enough to drag me into this black hole?

And Axis…

I couldn't allow my thoughts to dwell on him. No, I didn't care that he was sorry, whether he meant it or not. Axis had hurt me. He was just like the rest of them.

* * *

I awoke the next morning to a knock on my door. I groggily rolled out of bed. I hadn't gotten much more than a couple of hours of restless sleep. Axis had been in my dreams instead of Terry. I was angry that I didn't have anything to record into my diary.

I stumbled to the door, sighing after stubbing my foot on the sofa along the way.

A servant girl stood there, holding a small black box wrapped in pink ribbon.

I glanced at it, an eyebrow arched in confusion.

"From your father," she explained shortly, then handed it to me and left.

I blinked sleepily, staring at the box, unimpressed. I sighed carelessly while walking back to my bedroom. I tossed the box onto the bed, then showered.

After changing and finishing getting ready for the day, I found my eyes sailing to the box. I tried to refocus my thoughts on a book. I tumbled onto my bed, kicking the gift away slightly, but not onto the floor.

I read the first few sentences of the book several times, then realized just how distracted I was.

_I could never open it and he'll never have the satisfaction of giving me a gift of amends…_

I flicked at my ear, my eyes still gazing over at the box.

Or, of course, I could always just open it and not tell him…

I sat up, setting the book aside. I folded my legs pretzel-style, then I began to untie the smooth ribbon. As I lifted the top, I felt my heart pumping with curiosity.

A necklace…an…arrowhead necklace.

I stared for a long moment, my mouth going dry. My thoughts were warring, my memories competing with reality, with the world I knew.

"Terry…?" I whispered, lifting the leather strand from the box.

I had sketched it so many times, dreamed about it…

The memories overcame me, and I had to close my eyes. The necklace slipped from my fingers onto the bed.

I swallowed. How had I forgotten it? I had been wearing it that very night…

I spotted the note on the bed of velvet in the box. Dad's handwriting said, "You were wearing this when you arrived. I want to give it back to you to wear, if you wish."

My eyes returned to the necklace, my fingers tenderly closed around it.

* * *

That afternoon, I went to the lakeshore, sitting down on the grassy area before the beach began. I usually went there to get away, to calm my anger toward the agency. But that day, I was facing my anger toward myself, for having forgotten something as important to me as Terry's necklace. It was still in my room, on the bed, as I had felt too guilty and emotional to wear it. I had been on a sort of twisted high from the serum, but now reality was being driven back into my heart.

I had to do something to change things. I couldn't stay this way anymore. I had to fight back. Though I knew not how, I had to try.


	7. Chapter 6

**DesertedMirage Says: **Thank you **RedSharkBait, SiaAhn Sacham, Dragon77, dispatcher652 **for letting me know what you think with your reviews. And thank you to everyone reading!

****ANNOUNCEMENT: So I've got a playlist for _Guardian Angel: The Return_, which you can listen to at: playlist . com/desertedmirage (without spaces). I also have the playlist for _Guardian Angel_ there. Many of the songs I or my wonderful friend ohgodofwriting use in _Guardian Angel_ songfics are on the playlists. **

So what do you guys think of _Butterfly Wings: A Chelsea Story _by ohgodofwriting? I know there's got to be more than just Terry/Max, Terry/Dana, Terry/OC and Terry/Melanie fans out there somewhere! :)

* * *

Alicia pulled her car into the driveway of the large Tan home, then stepped out and walked up to the door. It was swung open before she could ring the bell.

"Hey Alicia, come in," greeted Dana with a cheery smile.

"How are you doing?" Alicia asked as she hugged her.

"Pretty good, just finished with some housecleaning."

Alicia smiled as she followed Dana to the cozy traditional furniture in the den. Alicia sat on the couch, and Dana asked if she wanted anything to drink.

"Just water is fine," replied Alicia, and Dana excused herself to the kitchen.

While she was away, Alicia's eyes roamed the nicely decorated room, the fireplace mantle with pictures of the Tan family, including pictures of Dana when she was younger. Alicia found herself smiling. A couple of the pictures were of Dana and I.

Dana reentered, carrying with her a glass of ice water and a mug of coffee.

"Thanks," said Alicia.

"This is, like, my third cup of coffee," chuckled Dana as she sat across from Alicia on the opposite sofa. "The week's been so busy with school that I'm always tired, but I wanted to get some housecleaning done."

"I understand," nodded Alicia. "Sometimes it gets school off of your mind," she took a drink of her water. "How are you liking your classes? Last time we spoke, you sounded like you wished you had dropped that Calculus class."

Dana gave an airy laugh, shrugging her shoulders. "Yeah, it's tough. The professor's nice, but..." she tapped her fingers on the porcelain mug, searching for the proper way to put it.

"Not really taking the time to explain things?" offered Alicia.

Dana's dark, almond eyes rolled. "Exactly! Sometimes I think they might actually want us to fail - the college professors."

Alicia laughed softly, crossing one leg over the other and leaning into the cushy armrest. "Yeah, Gotham U can be weird like that, but it gets better over time."

Dana sighed, smoothing her black hair. "I sure hope so."

Alicia gave an encouraging smile, and was about to ask how Dana's family had been, but the other girl spoke up.

"It used to be fun, you know," Dana observed wistfully. "School wasn't always just work. High school was more fun, I think... Like when we used to study together--Ter, Max and I."

Alicia nodded with a small smile.

Dana plucked at the tattered edge of her faded denim shorts. "Max always made everything fun and simple," Dana remembered quietly, staring at the glass coffee table.

"Yeah," added Alicia with a small chuckle, scooting up the sleeves of her maroon cardigan.

Dana's gaze was becoming somber, though, and her smile was disappearing.

"Um, Alicia..." she swallowed, shifting uneasily in her seat and not quite meeting Alicia's eyes. "There was a lot of drama going on between Max and I…over Terry."

Alicia fingered a strand of her dark curls. This didn't exactly surprise her. She had guessed that Dana and I were no longer on good terms, as I hadn't mentioned her and we had stopped hanging out. She hadn't really heard Dana's side of the story, though. All of the rivalry had faded from the limelight following my sudden "death." It just hadn't seemed important anymore, but Alicia realized that _two_ hearts had been involved with Terry, not just one.

She waited patiently for Dana to continue.

"And...I guess I just want you to know that it wasn't ever what I wanted," explained Dana gradually, setting down her mug of coffee. "I didn't see it coming. I mean, it may have crossed my mind, but I never thought we'd not be friends...and it really hurts to know that I can't talk to her, to tell her things I didn't get to say..."

Alicia chewed at her lip, feeling the familiar sorrow in her gut. Although she was healing from her grief, she too was missing me.

"And I know I said things I shouldn't have said...not the way I said them," Dana plodded carefully, her voice holding a trace of a quiver. "And sometimes it just really, really hurts to not be with them because I love them both so much...Terry and Max--" her sentence was cropped by a catch in her throat. She lowered her face into her hands, dark hair falling into her lap as she bent forward.

Alicia rose and walked over to sit beside her. She wrapped an arm around her trembling shoulders.

"Do you think it's o-okay if part of me still wishes Terry had loved me?" Alicia heard Dana ask in a muffled sob. "Of course it is! You're a girl, Dana, a human," Alicia uplifted consolingly. "You had two best friends that you cared about a lot, and some people we just can't let go of, even though we may try, especially if they're a friend."

Dana rubbed the tears from her eyes and cheeks, sitting up with a sniffle. She stared at the floor for a long time.

"Maybe that's what happened to Max..." she considered softly. "She always loved him, and I always knew she did... I'm just sad that it tore our friendship apart." Dana wiped at another tear, then smiled sadly, turning to Alicia. "I…I don't think I need to look back on those days with pain anymore, though," she said carefully. "I don't...think Max would want me to."

Alicia grinned slowly, then shook her head. "No, she wouldn't. Not _Max's_ best friend being unhappy. She'd never have it."

Dana smiled, then let out a joyful laugh. She reached out to hug Alicia. "Thanks, Alicia, I know you're right."

* * *

I slid the necklace over my head and onto my collar for the first time since being at the headquarters. I put my hands behind my neck and lifted my hair over the leather chain. My fingers closed around the smooth, black surface of the arrowhead. A thought fluttered across my mind.

_As I untied the ribbon on the box, Terry watched me with his hands clasped on the tabletop. _

_I lifted the lid and set it aside, my eyes widening at the heart-shaped pendant necklace inside._

_"Wow, Ter, this is beautiful," I smiled, lifting the necklace out, only to find that it wasn't just _one _necklace, but two. "And you got me two?"_

_Terry laughed and shook his head._

_"That one's for me," he took the other one, which held an arrowhead on a thin leather strand. "Let me explain, though, 'cause they're not your typical necklaces. See, there's something special about them. Here, listen," Terry placed his necklace to his chest, then instructed me to hold mine up to my ear. _

_I furrowed my brow, then smiled. "It's your heartbeat."_

_Terry nodded. "You can hear the other person's heartbeat through the necklace, as long as they wear it. Pretty shway, huh?"_

_But I could only smile again, and reached out to hug him._

Slowly, and perhaps foolishly, I raised Terry's arrowhead pendant to my ear.

No response. I should have known better. What was I thinking?

The disappointed tears were rolling down my cheeks, and I didn't bother to brush them away.

I hadn't even remembered our heartbeat necklaces until my father decided to give one back to me. Surely it held no meaning to him, not with Terry being dead.

I hung my head in shame as I sat with tears dripping onto my open diary. Swallowing roughly, I picked up my pen.

_Terry,_

_They gave me your heartbeat necklace back a few days ago. I couldn't wear it at first because I was so angry at myself for having forgotten it. I'm so scared sometimes. It feels so strong here, they're all so much stronger than me. I don't want to be controlled by them. I don't want to forget you, Terry, and I don't want to lose who I am. I don't want to lose myself here…_

The pen dropped from my fingers when my tangled thoughts failed to be expressed any longer. My vision of the white page clouded with tears, and I rested my forehead on the damp paper, my arms folded on the desktop. My warm tears streamed for a moment as I wept softly. I felt for a moment completely powerless, more-so than I had ever felt before at the headquarters.

My breaths came quickly as I fought to calm myself. Once I had finished crying, my fingers squeezed into a fist. I slid back my chair, dragging my forearms across my wet cheeks.

_Enough of this!_

I paced the floor of my large, cozy bedroom.  
My mission training with Axis was scheduled for the upcoming Monday. Today was Wednesday. Today was the day I usually took my dose of serum...

I paused at the foot of my bed, then turned and dropped back into the inviting mattress. My swollen eyes closed, then opened again and slid over to the desk, where I kept the syringe.

_I could always miss a dose..._

I felt fine. Maybe a little more emotional than usual, but that was typically how it was the further I got away from each previous dose. After all, part of the serum's purpose was to curb my emotions and sentiments, to mute my expressions.

I pressed my fists to my forehead.

_I must be insane! This is dangerous. I might get hurt. Just because I feel okay right now doesn't mean the withdrawal won't kick in._

I wasn't being rational. How would I get by without the serum when it was addictive? Would I die?

I stared lifelessly up at the ceiling, hypnotized by the shadows of light and darkness from the blazing sunshine beyond my window. My radio was playing softly, still set to an oldies station after waking me up minutes back.

"_Do you know what your fate is?  
And are you trying to shake it?  
You're doing your best dance, your best look  
You're praying that you'll make it  
__Bless my soul, you're a lonely soul  
__'Cause you won't let go of anything you hold"  
_

I envisioned Terry's captivating gaze, his laughing smile and tousled hair, black as coal. I felt for a moment the weight of my imprisonment, and lay frozen with fright. I wanted him to be there with me, to give me a voice, to guide me...to rescue me.

But now I was alone, and left only with my own resolve.

I pulled myself up and sat with my eyes locked onto my desk. Knowing I would be toying with the danger of withdrawal, I looked away from the desk and left the room.

* * *

I spent most of my time relaxing the remainder of the week. I was usually sitting alone beside the lake, listening to music or working on a new portrait of Terry.

All was well until Saturday night, when I had vivid nightmares and awoke in a cold sweat. Sunday, I noticed my heart racing, and a sensation of lightheadedness. I ignored the symptoms, persuading myself that I was strong enough to forego the serum.

But come Monday morning, I was weak, barely able to get out of bed. I didn't have to meet with Axis until five o'clock that evening. I spent a few hours at the lake, hoping the fresh air would help. I stayed there all morning, resting barefooted in the sand, until I began to feel dizzy and left for my room to lay down.

* * *

Axis shut the door of his sporty, silver sedan, then jogged up the stone steps of the mansion. He was glad to see Luna's car missing, meaning she wouldn't be there to pester and stall him before his scheduled training appointment with me.

He strolled inside the cool foyer of the island estate, slipping off the white jacket of his business suit. The late spring weather was making the air humid and warm.

Axis dropped by his office to change into jeans and a lime-green, short-sleeved shirt. He reclined on his sofa, scrolling through his phone in his hands. The clock read 4:59. Only a few seconds later, 5:00 arrived, and the phone began to rumble and sing a tune.

"Training with India," read the reminder, flashing on the screen. As though he wouldn't have remembered it.

Axis silenced the device and gazed lazily out the window, part of him feeling the usual guilt when being around me, the other eager to be around me, just the same.

He finally sat up with a sigh, then left his office. We were to meet at his car, parked in the stretching, tree-lined driveway.

"How are you, Axis?"

Axis paused after locking the study door. He turned to see his boss standing there, holding a brief case.

"Oh, fine, Sir."

Dad smiled shortly, patting Axis' shoulder. "Good. How was the meeting?"

"Everything went smoothly. They'll be ready to close the deal by next week."

My dad nodded, satisfied, and began to move off, but stopped with a slight frown. "You're meeting with India today, right?"

"Yes Sir. On my way right now."

Dad nodded again, then hesitated. "She might not come around immediately, Axis, but…" he sighed. "Everything in time."

Axis rubbed his neck, his blue-green eyes studying the floor. "Yeah. Thanks, Sir."

As my father made his way to his office, Axis returned to his car to wait for me.

Minutes slipped away, a half hour. Axis stood alone, consulting his phone for a call, a message from me. When he had been waiting for an hour, he went back inside of the mansion. Axis traversed the hallways to my suite, and stood before the door. He hesitated before he could gently knock; perhaps that wouldn't be the best idea. Axis put his hand into his pocket instead, reaching for his cell phone. He called my number. It rang a few times without being picked up. He called again. Still no answer.

Axis sighed thoughtfully, leaning against the wall beside my door. Maybe he should check my office…

Axis had just made up his mind to walk away when he heard a door close from inside, followed by a thud. He frowned, listening at the door. All was silent inside. This time, Axis knocked. Still no sound. Growing more concerned, he reached for the knob.

* * *

"India, India…"

But it should have been another name. Who were they asking for? My name wasn't India. It was something else, but I could no longer recall what…

The voice was distant, yet slowly growing nearer. I was being held. My head felt like a weight, and a burning sensation was surging through my arm.

My eyes fluttered open. It was…Terry, but not really…or was it?

"Terry?" I whispered.

To my warped mind, he looked so much like him... The eyes. They were a different color, yet still focused with the same glow. Friendly, knowing, warm.

I blinked, and I remembered. No, this was not Terry. This was Axis.

"I feel so bad, Axis," I mumbled, rubbing my floating head.

"I know, just relax and let it take effect," Axis replied gently.

I looked around, slowly feeling my wits returning. We were in the den of my suite, my bedroom door was closed behind me. I spotted an open bottle of painkillers, spilled on the floor near where Axis was kneeling with me in his arms.

"I was trying to help…the pain," I remembered aloud. My whole body had been gripped with stabbing aches after I tried to nap the side-effects away. I had left my bedroom, taking some painkillers with me on my way to the kitchen. But apparently I hadn't made it there without passing out.

That's when it occurred to me how suspect it must have looked. The painkillers falling out of the vial, me laying unconscious.

"I-I didn't--it's not what-what you're thinking," I stumbled, trying to explain myself.

But Axis nodded understandingly. "I know, India, it's okay. I believe you."

I looked away, then began to try to stand up. Axis rose as well, and when my knees started to give way, he quickly supported me and guided me to the sofa. I lowered myself to sit with a shaky sigh, holding my head in my hands.

"I'll get you some water," he said, then quickly walked off to the kitchen. When he returned, I looked up to see him extending a glass of cool water.

I reached out to accept it, still feeling the stinging in my arm. I remembered how it always burned when I injected myself.

Axis sat beside me as I sipped, watching me closely, his attractive face showing concern.

"Caught," I said unhappily when I was done drinking, staring down at the glass. No doubt Axis now knew that I had been skipping on the serum. "Guess I don't need to explain what happened."

Axis clasped his hands, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "I had to give you some to stop the withdrawal, after I found you laying there."

I didn't reply. At first, I wasn't sure of how I felt about this. It was always hard to voice my feelings when fresh from a dose. A hesitancy would dominate my opinions and thoughts. But I knew that I was grateful, even though I wanted to escape the serum. The days I had gone without it were a nightmare.

"I didn't want you to get sick any more, India," Axis was hastily trying to justify his actions, nervously scratching his head. "And I couldn't just let you lay there and not--"

"It's okay," I stopped him. "I...I think I should be thanking you."

Axis looked blank, then failed to cover the surprise on his face as he looked at me.

"And I _want_ to thank you, as well," I added slowly.

Axis, not one for being anything other than humble, only chewed his lip, shrugging his shoulders just a little.

My finger traced the cold condensation on the glass, staring at my hands. "How did you know what I was doing?"

"I did the same thing, once. Only I got sicker and almost died," he answered truthfully. "I couldn't let the same happen to you."

I swallowed as a moment of silence lingered behind his quiet statement. "It must be impossible. I tried my best to fight it..."

Axis listened, his brow furrowing. I was surprised to feel a tear squeeze from my eye.

"I feel like I've failed...like everything I am is gone, or no longer important. I'm too exhausted to hate anymore, Axis. I just wish I could be me again." I closed my eyes with a sniffle, miserably hanging my head. "I really feel like no one but you gets it, either. And like I can't ever communicate what's wrong with me. It's like something keeps me from talking, from expressing what I feel. Sometimes I feel like I'm trapped inside of my own mind…"

I allowed a few more tears, not ashamed that Axis was watching me cry so freely.

"Do you want to know the best way to fight losing your identity with the serum?" Axis asked, his expressive eyes lightening.

I looked at him, wiping my eyes. "Please tell me," I pleaded.

"Having a friend to remind you of who you are," he answered softly.

* * *

Months flew by like mere days, bringing with them change. New memories were created, others were highlighted or faded away, growing foggier as time rushed away.

Terry coughed as he shut his bedroom door. His back throbbed with pain as he peeled off the suit. Gingerly, he pulled on a black tank and crawled into his bed, wincing as he did so. He had to be at class in just three short hours, but he knew that there was no sleeping with all of the pain in his body. Trying to find a comfortable side to lay on, his eyes found the necklace on his bedside table, the silver pendant gleaming in the moonlight from his window.

He felt angry. Terry had listened for so long, altogether giving up at times. There was never a sound, and his hopes had begun to dwindle. He often chided himself for keeping it where he could see it. Perhaps he was punishing himself, perhaps he _needed_ a stab to keep me real. It wasn't as though he was forgetting me, but his life was becoming so crowded with school and Batwork that he didn't always have the time to search for me. And he had run out of leads. Every glimmer of hope had led to a brick wall, and the necklace he kept was only another reminder that his heart was forever broken.

Terry grumbled a sigh as his weary eyes remained riveted on the gift he had given me. The night replayed in his mind, the sound of the shot, the blur of me running toward him. Why was it going away? Why did time have to cause the most vivid of memories to lose their realness? Was he wrong for wanting to cling to such a horrid event?

But it was his fuel, his catalyst for action. He _had_ to remember the way I had to gasp for air as I lay struggling to breathe. He _had_ to remember our ironic conversations about being separated, just a week prior to the nightmare, and the way we used to joke about the dangers of our job. If he didn't, he would have failed me.

Terry had gone two whole months without listening, more than ever. It used to be an obsession, listening daily. But his tenacity had been whipped with rejection.

He grabbed the necklace, staring dully at it. His fingers rubbed the cool surface of the heart-shaped charm. He was Batman, he should be strong enough to handle another let-down.

Feeling like a hopeless addict, Terry brought the pendant up to his ear.

The necklace dropped after a few seconds, his hand trembled and pressed to his forehead.

A heart was steadily beating.

* * *

**Song Credit: "Say (All I Need)" by One Republic. You'll find it on the playlist for _Guardian Angel: The Return._**


	8. Chapter 7

**DesertedMirage Says: **Hello! Spring is here, along with tons of allergies. Anyway. Thank you, **dispatcher652 (thanks, that made me smile)**** SiaAhn Sacham (things will be picking up from this chapter forward, thanks!) ohgodofwriting (yes, the playlist helps me to write!)**

I'm trying to catch up on Batman Beyond by watching the episodes as they put it OnDemand on digital cable. I saw the episode with Vance and the way he took over Ter's suit. It seriously had me looking over my shoulder while I was watching it, haha. Very creepy episode. But a good episode, at that.

Enjoy!

* * *

I lay with eyes closed in the lofty grass, folding my arms atop my stomach with a comfortable sigh. Not far from my head was a drop-off into the jagged rocks which greeted the Atlantic ocean. The atmosphere was breezy, and fluffy gray clouds whisked in the sky.

"You seem to be enjoying this," observed Axis from above, and I opened my eyes. He was seated beside me, unwrapping a granola bar. "Most of the angels are afraid of heights," he added before taking a bite.

I smiled disbelievingly. "_Are_ they now?"

Axis' starburst eyes traveled away, and he tugged at the collar of his black polo shirt before saying, "Well, at least, _this _one is…"

I laughed in amusement as he grinned sheepishly.

We were watching the entrance to a cave owned by one of the agency's clients, some feet below us on the beach. A party would soon be arriving by boat with a shipment of arms, and Axis and I were there to ensure that all operations progressed smoothly. It wasn't exactly the most treacherous of missions, and didn't require us being in uniform. But I'd seen more than my share of intense objectives to be grateful for something low-key.

"I've always liked heights. I guess it's because of the thrill…" I said while twisting onto my side, leaning on my elbow. Twirling a dandelion in my fingers, I looked out at the horizon, the looming clouds over the dark water. The wind swirled up from the crashing waves below, and tumbled away the near-empty bottle of water from which Axis had been drinking.

"No need to blow our cover, right?" he laughed.

I chuckled as he rose and scrambled to chase it. We weren't supposed to leave behind any signs of our presence on the cliff.

One year, five months - as best as I could recall. It was getting harder to believe that I had once lived and breathed a completely different life. A couple of months prior, I had celebrated my nineteenth birthday over dinner with a few fellow agent friends, including Axis.

Axis came jogging back over, combing a hand through his blowing curls. He waved the bottle in victory.

I smiled. "Nice save."

"And the funny thing is," he plopped down beside me, "that's the most action-packed thing I've done all week."

I laughed, sitting up with my legs folded beneath me, pulling my leather jacket closer around my shoulders.

"It _has_ been pretty uneventful lately…"

The gusty breeze carried my dark hair across my face, and I hastily swept it away with an embarrassed squeal. Axis merely grinned.

"Does it _have_ to be so windy today?" I sighed, pushing my fists onto my lap as the wind died down.

"C'mon India, you know you love windy weather," commented Axis quietly as he opened his leather sack and slid out his laptop.

"What time do you have?" I asked, frowning at my watch.

"Two fifty-one."

"They're late."

"When are they not?"

I laughed, then inhaled the moist, seaside air. On my belt, beneath my jacket and blouse, was a laser gun - and I kept a .9mm backup on my ankle.

"Think there'll be time for a quick trip for some junk food or something when we're done?"

Axis glanced up from his computer, smiling. "Hungry already?"

"We've been here all morning and we skipped lunch--"

"The granola bars didn't suffice?" Axis poked.

I rolled my eyes. "C'mon, Axis, you know that--"

A helicopter gargled in the distance, shutting off my sentence as we both listened. The party wasn't scheduled to be arriving by air…

Our eyes met for a quick second before our heads turned to stare at the sky. Gradually, the copter flew into view, beginning as a white dot against the dark clouds. The wind picked up as it approached. Axis and I waited for it to pass over, but instead it neared and descended toward us.

Holding up an arm to shield my face from the wind, I squinted as the grass bent in a circle under the strong gusts of the rotors. Three ropes dropped from the craft.

I glanced at Axis.

"Get ready!" he shouted over the drumming noise, withdrawing his gun.

I followed suit and snatched my gun from my belt.

Three individuals were weaving down the ropes to the ground. When they landed, we were besieged.

"Hands up!" boomed a voice from the helicopter's loudspeaker.

The masked troops surrounded us with their AK-47 assault rifles trained. Axis and I dropped our weapons, slowly walking to stand back to back, our hands obediently raised.

I noticed that their uniforms lacked any sort of brand to identify them. As the helicopter continued to hover, an order sounded from above, "Bring 'em up!"

Very subtly, Axis nudged my shoulder with his. I understood the signal. Almost in unison, we each touched a thumb to a ring on our index fingers. A few seconds later, explosions thundered in the distance, or so it sounded. The rings could create a diversion of sound to distract assailants.

In the split-second that the troopers flinched, Axis kicked up his gun, then flung it. Acting as a magnetic boomerang, it sliced each gun from their hands.

I launched into action, kicking one of the rifles out of their reach and tossing Axis another. Finally, I scooped up the remaining rifle for myself, and Axis grasped our guns and belongings. We backed away, weapons trained onto the stunned troops and copter. Seeing additional gunmen begin to descend the ropes, Axis quickly fired at the top of the rotors, bringing the aircraft spiraling out of control, to the ground. We tore off down the hillside, weapons and bags in tow. I felt the heat of the crash on my back as we sprinted, and turned to see several troops running toward us from the lapping flames. I tripped on the slope as we ran to the strip of beach, just when they began to fire. Axis paused and helped me up, and we raced to the spot where we had hidden our jet ski behind a rock.

Once on the beach, we were quick to slide off the tarp from the jet ski, and together we pushed it through the thick sand to the water.

Only when we were on the open sea, zipping away from the fiery scene, did I breathe again.

* * *

Terry unwound the tape from his hands as he exited the gym into the computer room. Ace trotted up to beg for his attention, and he reached to rub the dog's ears. Bruce whirled his chair to face Terry.

"There was a bad helicopter crash on the seaside cliffs north of Gotham Lake Friday."

Terry stretched his sore shoulders as he walked up to the laboratory table.

"And?"

"It happened just above a cave hiding a large supply of weapons," answered Bruce.

"Hmm," Terry scratched his stubbly chin, carefully sifting through slides of specimens from a crime scene. "Whose copter?"

Bruce turned back to the Batcomputer. "It wasn't a police craft."

"The owner's, maybe?" mused Terry before yawning. All of the information was the same to him, these days: Jokerz, drug dealers, random psychopaths who tried to establish their names as villains. Why couldn't anything surface that actually had to do with _me _and my possible whereabouts?

"They're not sure. Investigators only found the fallen copter - it was unmarked."

"Any survivors?"

"All of them. But none are speaking."

"Interesting," lied Terry as he peered at one slide through the microscope.

"Very much so. The Commissioner thinks it's high profile."

"Could be, or maybe it's just blackmail between the usual criminals. Nothing new there," Terry mumbled while shutting off the microscope.

Bruce was staring at him quietly, expectantly.

Terry sighed dryly in response, leaving to suit-up. "Guess I'll be getting some fresh seaside air tonight."

* * *

The night clouds had scattered to unveil a vividly navy blue sky and glittering stars when Batman arrived at the ocean cliffs. After ejecting himself from his jet, he glided to the spot where crime scene tape was surrounding the edge, where the crash had taken place.

All evidence of any value to him had been removed by the police. Batman sighed, leaping off to fly down to the small beach, the cave's entrance. Stepping past the tape, he walked across the uneven rocks through the entrance. Using his night-vision, he moved carefully through the tunnel, the rush of the waves growing muffled the farther he went inside.

A few yards more, and he was standing in an open area, a pocket in the hillside. After ensuring that he was alone, Batman withdrew a pen-sized flashlight and began to search the premises. Metal crates lined the walls, and a rickety wooden table stood incongruously in the center of the room.

Narrowing his eyes, Batman focused on the table and stepped closer to it. An empty glass, a pencil, a tablet of paper. No doubt the police had already been there to dust for fingerprints. He had just begun to study the items for himself when a pair of footsteps scuffled at the end of the tunnel.

Batman shut off his penlight and quickly stepped to the edge of the room. Crouching in the area where the wall met the ceiling, he waited. Touching the side of his cowl, his night-vision illuminated the darkness with a green glow. A figure entered warily, a man wearing a ski-mask. Batman's white eyes trailed him, watching him flick on a flashlight and approach one of the crates. He could hear the man's heavy breathing. He must have been either nervous or sick.

Batman was about to strike and interrogate when the man moved a crate aside, revealing a button on the wall. He pressed it, and the table descended into the floor. The platform reappeared after a moment, now bearing another crate. Frowning, Batman witnessed the man walking over to the new crate and hastily removing the top. Tossing it carelessly to the side, he dug inside and pulled out a handful of small syringes. Batman zoomed his view, seeing that they to contained a liquid of some kind. The man had just begun to stuff his pockets when Batman decided to pounce.

Landing silently behind him, Batman tapped his shoulder. The man turned for a second, saw Batman, and immediately tore off toward the entrance. But Batman quickly flung a chord, wrapping it around the man's ankles. Once the captive was on the ground, Batman pinned him, pressing his knee into his back.

"Not too smart to return to the crime scene, is it?" growled Batman.

"I-I, Batman, look, I-I want out!" stammered the man, clearly terrified, but also seemingly under some sort of influence.

"Out of what?" Batman demanded gruffly as he pressed harder.

"I-I can't say, I--"

"I suggest that you talk or let me take you to the cops!"

"Okay, okay. I-I just needed it!"

"Needed _what_?"

"The serum, I just, they've-they've got me addicted and I want out. I'll take prison, I'll take it. Just don't let me go without it anymore! It changed me! I'm tired of it! I didn't wanna' join! I was just trying to make some quick creds, but they got me! They made me join, Batman, I swear to God!"

Batman frowned as he listened.

"Who? Who do you work for?"

"The-the--" the man struggled to answer directly. "They call themselves angels, but they're really demons, I--"

Before Batman could prod him for more information, the man had suddenly gone limp.

* * *

Terry sat in the grimy hallway of the police department. His knees jumped in anticipation. He ruffled his hair with a sigh.

Commissioner Gordon had asked him to come, wanting to brief him on the man he had dropped off at Gotham General Hospital the night before.

All he could think about were the man's scrambled words before he had gone unconscious. Serum, coercion…_angels_.

Terry knew that there was a strong chance that he was hoping for the near-impossible, that the "angels" the man had vaguely alluded to were somehow linked to Terry's memory of the angel wings on my attacker's uniform. It _was_ the strongest lead he had found since the necklace, though…

The door before him finally opened, and Barbara appeared, beckoning him inside.

Terry ambled into the police commissioner's office, hands in his jeans pockets.

Barbara slowly sat down behind her desk, rain sliding down the window behind her. Terry silently took his seat across from her, trying to mask his nerves. He hadn't told her of his theories that I was still alive; he had yet to tell Bruce, as well.

Barbara removed her small glasses, resting them on the wooden desk. "We've searched the cave up and down. No leads. Just the serum you managed to swipe and bring to us."

Terry leaned forward. "What about the man? Has he said anything yet? You said he got better after the doctors treated him…"

Barbara nodded slowly, looking Terry in the eye.

"He's dead Terry."

"What?"

Barbara stood up and walked to the window. "I think Bruce has got you working on an interesting case, here. But we're out of leads."

Terry frowned. "How did he die?"

"Murdered."

"But how?" Terry was gripping the metal arms of his chair now. "He was under close watch in the hospital. Did you catch the killer?"

Barbara sighed, scratching her head of short white hair. "That's where things get confusing," she turned back to Terry. "He was killed by a nurse. Lethal injection of toxic drugs."

"And the nurse is…?"

"Gone. Fled the hospital. Nowhere to be found."

Terry grumbled and fiddled with the zipper of his blue pullover. "Someone didn't want him to talk," he considered aloud, staring at the floor.

Lightning struck, flashing purple light into the dim office.

"But did he say anything to you?"

Terry heard Barbara's question, but didn't want to answer with the truth. He rolled his tongue along his teeth. Was he ready to voice his suspicions? Part of him was still afraid that they would shoot it down and ruin his search efforts.

No, maybe this was still best kept to himself…

"Just gibberish," waved Terry, still keeping his head tilted down. "Couldn't understand him, really. He was an addict, you know." He lied, sliding a hand into his pocket and brushing a finger against the necklace chain.

The former Batgirl watched him closely, perhaps not fully believing his words, but nodded quietly.


	9. Chapter 8

**DesertedM****irage Says: **I don't have much to say, other than the fact that there will be more action in this chapter. I've been writing a lot at insane hours of the night, so I'm really sleepy. Oh well, as long as it keeps me writing and inspired.

Wait, I did just remember something else to say. ;) I watched the episode where Max debuted recently. Interesting indeed. I wish they would update the episodes OnDemand faster, though. I need to go ahead and buy the DVD, I suppose.

Thank you for the reviews, **dispatcher652 **and **SiaAhn Sacham.** I thank you and hope you're enjoying this. :) Expect high intensity in this chapter!

* * *

"Think I should get a tattoo?"

Axis turned at my question, lifting his eyebrows. "Why? Do you want one?"

I glanced up from where I was tracing on my wrist with a pen. The design was impromptu and the first thing that had popped into my mind: a necklace carrying a heart-shaped pendant. It held no memories I could grasp at the moment.

I smiled wryly.

"I guess it doesn't matter, right? Daddy would never have it," I spoke cynically, setting down the pen and dropping my head back into the tan leather headrest of Axis' bright red, retro Mustang convertible.

We chased the ocean shore, driving along a winding road a few feet above the beach. The sun was high in the sky, and the weather unseasonably hot.

I slid my sunglasses over my eyes when I began to squint. I extended an arm beyond the door, my fingers swimming through the wind.

Axis maneuvered the car along the empty roadway, headed for the headquarters.

"They got down to the bottom of the copter incident from last week, you know," he commented.

"Mmm," I responded indifferently as my eyes moved away from the glistening shore, free to wander over to Axis' face from behind my shades. I knew that I was enjoying the one-on-one time with him before we would have to convene for a meeting with Zeke and my father, and I wasn't terribly interested in discussing work. "So who were they?"

"A private agency, one of the client's enemies. Turned out they knew he was coming with a shipment and stumbled upon us, his angels."

I smirked. "Well, at least it wasn't the government. Wouldn't want us all getting locked up and killed," I spoke dryly, then shot him a mischievous look. "And at least you got the action you wanted."

Axis chuckled easily. "C'mon, I wasn't the only bored one. I distinctly remember you commenting on the 'uneventful' week."

I grinned.

The car zoomed ahead, the only sounds coming from the buzzing motor and the whipping winds.

Axis cleared his throat. "Sounds like we're good to go in Gotham tonight."

I frowned, lifting my head to look at him. "Seriously?"

Axis nodded, turquoise eyes studying the road ahead.

"Who?" I asked.

"You, me," he hesitated, "maybe Luna."

"Luna?" I was sitting straight up now, sunglasses back on the top of my head.

"Yeah."

"But she's in Germany or something, on vacation - _again_," I inserted bitterly, wishing that _I_ could get an overseas trip for once.

"Zeke thought it'd be best she come home early. There have been some issues with Browning's warehouse again."

I rolled my eyes, crossing my bare, tanned arms over my chest. "I thought we just took care of that last month."

"Guess the guy made some more enemies," shrugged Axis with a short laugh.

"Hmm," I shifted, leaning back into the headrest with another sigh. "I suppose that means another night of covering for Luna while she does all of the work."

"And covering for me too," chuckled Axis.

I smiled at him. "Yeah, you too," I laughed softly. "But I'd love to get in on the action sometime. I may like the view from above, but sometime I'd love to be doing ground-level work again…"

Axis cast me a gentle smile. "Don't forget that you're daddy's girl, India."

I rubbed my forehead, beginning to sweat under the blazing sun. "Yeah, that I am." I confirmed his light comment with half a heart.

When Axis became silent, I picked up my pen once more and started a new doodle on my arm.

* * *

Alicia dared a smile at the remembrance of Enrique's confession.

"I love you," he had said, bravely, purely.

Enrique had called Alicia just a few days after bringing her sympathy flowers, and to Alicia's pleasant surprise, they talked for hours. A month later, after casual meetings, they were dating. Weeks passed as they began to see more of each other, and though his revelation had come as a surprise to her, she knew that she believed him.

Her smile was restrained by fear, though, by the constant grip on her free-will... She and Justin were in one of their usual phases of not communicating. This usually happened when Justin was seeing someone else. But Alicia also knew that he was forever expecting her to be there as his rebound.

Alicia hadn't been totally honest with Enrique from the beginning. He had introduced her to his closest friends, trying to incorporate her into his surroundings. But they were all so...different than what Alicia was used to. Or, at least, so different from the secret life she had lived beneath her facade of an overachieving, sturdy older sibling.

Alicia walked slowly to the sofa, recalling the way she had once walked away from a date with Enrique and his circle. She had excused herself with a fibbed alibi of having forgotten an appointment.

Reclining into the cushions, wrapping her arms around a pillow, she also remembered the way Enrique had pursued her and finally gotten to the bottom of her heartache. She poured it all, sharing with him the pieces of her past that she had neglected to mention. The drug abuse, rehab, losing her scholarship...Justin. She had never felt so transparent with anyone before, and although it was terrifying at first, Enrique's reaction shifted her expectations. He had wiped her tears, assuring her that he wasn't meaning to pressure her. But most significantly, he had told her how he felt about her.

Alicia sighed in exhaustion, gripping her cell phone to her stomach. She sat up, leaned forward onto her elbows, and nervously dialed Justin.

One ring, and then two. Her heartbeat galloped, her palms began to sweat.

"Hey, it's Justin. Leave me a message and I'll hit you back."

The tone signaled her cue to speak. She swallowed back the dryness in her throat.

"Justin...it's me. I...I don't want us to be together anymore. I'm seeing somebody else...somebody who treats me better than you ever did and ever could. It's time for me to move on. Goodbye."

With the phone in her lap, and quietness surrounding her, Alicia's thoughts were blank. Her pulse was relaxing, but suddenly the realization of what had taken place struck her. "_I'm...free," _she thought with unfamiliar relief.

Tears filled Alicia's eyes as she cried, face hidden into her hands.

"I love you, Enrique," she whispered, her smile returning.

* * *

"I-I, Batman, look, I-I want out!"

"Out of what?"

"I-I can't say, I--"

"I suggest that you talk or let me take you to the cops!"

"Okay, okay. I-I just needed it!"

"Needed _what_?"

"The serum, I just, they've-they've got me addicted and I want out. I'll take prison, I'll take it. Just don't let me go without it anymore! It changed me! I'm tired of it! I didn't wanna' join! I was just trying to make some quick creds, but they got me! They made me join, Batman, I swear to God!"

"Who? Who do you work for?"

"The-the... They call themselves angels, but they're really demons, I--"

Terry clenched his jaw in concentration before tapping the rewind button once again. The recording of his exchange as Batman with the criminal in the ocean cave played through the speakers of the Batcomputer.

"I-I Batman, look, I-I want out!"

Terry grumbled and fast-forwarded to the part his ears hadn't been able to erase. His finger sped through the unnecessary bits.

"…the serum, I--they made me join--they call themselves angels, but they're really demons--"

Rewind.

"…they call themselves angels…"

"Angels," echoed Terry in a muttered drone. He dropped his elbows onto the desktop surface, rubbing his burning eyes. He had been at the Batcave for hours, using his off-day to train and investigate. Bruce hadn't come down from the mansion yet, but Terry was glad for the silence. He hadn't made much headway, and had only succeeded in playing the recording over and over. He had started the undertaking with combing pages of search results on the words "angel" and "serum."

He was nearing exhaustion. There was no explanation in sight. What was the man in the cave referring to? Why had he been killed?

Terry pulled his hands through his hair with a deep sigh.

There _had_ to have been more to it. Why else would the man have been silenced? It was intentional, Terry was sure of it.

His sky-blue eyes sailed away from the blaring computer monitor, resting instead on the wall of encased costumes. The original Batgirl uniform stared back at him. Terry remembered accepting my backup costume from my mother, who had wanted him to have it.

His fingers closed into a fist.

He needed another lead, and the only place to find it was out in Gotham City.

* * *

_It's so much different than Batgirl..._

I opened my eyes from the semi-asleep state I had allowed myself to drift into. I yawned, stretching my arms as I sat up. I looked about me in confusion.

_Fell asleep on the sofa again._

I reached up to my face, remembering the final thought from my dream. The mask was still there. It covered my forehead, eyes and nose - everything but my mouth and chin. But that wasn't the biggest difference between my guardian angel mask and my old Batgirl cowl. No, the Batgirl mask didn't seem to control me the way the angel one did. After wearing it on undercover missions for months, I was still surprised at the way it altered my judgment_ and_ memory.

Sighing, I peeled it off, rising to change out of my angel uniform and into my pajamas. I was trying to remember why I was suited and in my room instead of out in Gotham on a mission. The window between remembering missions and forgetting them was small, due to the way the angel mask worked in conjunction with the serum.

As I tossed aside the suit and put on a t-shirt and sporty shorts, I recalled flashes of a bird's eye view of the rooftops, of receiving a reassuring smile from Axis. He looked so much like Terry in his black suit. We emulated bat costumes for the technology, as well as the mere fun of it. Axis had left to enter a warehouse with Luna. She had bragged about her mission in Gotham General Hospital to kill the traitor who had nearly ratted us out. Then I was watching them from above, armed with a sniper rifle. Dad always parked me on the highest points, safely hidden away from the grime of the streets, yet still just as useful.

I couldn't exactly recall why I had left the job early, but I guessed that they hadn't needed me to cover anymore for the night.

I smirked while touching my arrowhead necklace and staring into the dresser mirror. They were probably still out there, hard at work, Axis and Luna.

_Oh well. No need to get too jealous. Not like I'll remember the mission after I wake up._

That was as far as my mind allowed me to access, and I rolled into bed.

* * *

"Let's go, Luna, we're done here."

"Why the rush? We've practically just arrived. Give him time," muttered Luna as she withdrew her machete and held it up to the orange glow from the low ceiling of the empty parking garage. A pharmaceutical company, an office building where a client was supposed to arrive with a briefcase filled with creds: payment to my father.

"No one's showing up, Luna," Axis sighed, moving out from the shadowed corner where he had been hiding. "He's bailed. The others will take care of him later. Now let's go--"

"Axis," Luna held his arm. "I think you're letting all of this seriousness drain you and worry you way too much."

The masked white eyes of his suit narrowed down at her.

She shrugged. "I mean, come now. How many times have we said we were going to leave but it turned out the guy was a little late?"

Axis shifted his weight, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes scanning the area. "It's different, this time, Luna. You know he's been watching since Paulson's leak."

Luna's expression hardened behind her black mask. She sheathed her sword.

"_No_, I don't," she returned coldly. "And I don't care about what Terry McGinnis does. And you shouldn't, either, lover boy."

Axis looked away from her.

"Besides, I made sure shady Paulson wouldn't drop another hint, or stash another supply of serum in a client's cave. It was only a matter of time before he broke, I figured. I had him targeted from day one," she smiled ever so slightly at mention of her assigned assassination mission. "And it wasn't the easiest job, either. You _know_ how much I detest hospitals. And being a nurse for an hour...ugh."

"Well, the boss sure wasn't assured enough to just move on," shot Axis with sarcasm.

Luna's eyebrow lifted. "Oh Axis, _please_. He's just worried the stupid boy will find her," she pressed her hands onto her hips. "But we all know that'd be a simple tear to mend." She patted the gun on her hip with a snicker.

"Your aim was a little off last time, remember?"

"Sure about that?" Luna swiftly quizzed, but before Axis could respond, an engine purred floors below.

"Ah, there's our company now," perked Luna, grinning slyly at Axis. "Told ya' he was coming."

Axis rolled his eyes as they waited for the car to arrive. Seconds later, the black sedan appeared, winding around the bend. It stopped in a parking space a few yards away from where they stood against the low concrete wall, their faces shrouded in darkness.

A man exited the vehicle, wearing a fedora that covered his features. Two others alighted, with ski masks over their faces and guns in hand. The client: a former member of the Jokerz, back when they were first assembled following the Joker's death. He had amassed a small mafia and funds, but was still hardly in his right mind.

Luna sighed with disgust. Another client too afraid to face the GAA without bodyguards. "You've _got_ to be kidding. What does this look like, a silly mafia exchange?"

Axis cleared his throat. "That's far enough," he instructed the client. "Set it down."

"Aye, aye, Captain," mocked the man as he obediently placed the briefcase down onto the ground, then slowly stepped back a few feet.

Axis eyed their guns. "No weapons--"

"Why no freedom, Mr. Guardian Angel?" shrugged the man, trying to be cool.

"I said no weapons!" barked Axis, beginning to get agitated by his impudence.

Reluctantly, the man nodded to his henchmen. They lowered their guns.

Luna shook her head in annoyance.

Axis cautiously moved forward to the briefcase. As Luna closely watched the others, Axis opened it and began to count the creds. Once the settled amount was accounted for, he closed it with a click, tossing it over his shoulder to Luna.

"We're done," he said levelly, waiting for the man and his bodyguards to go back to their car.

"Oh, but wait, I did have a bit of a small question to ask." The man was beaming mischievously, only his yellow teeth showing beneath the hat.

Axis stared at him blankly, not amused.

"God. Can we just get this over with?" whined Luna, growing bored with the lack of action. "There's no question and answer period in this!"

The man grinned broadly. "Oh, but I think you'd _love_ to hear this one. You see, I've invited my own company to our meeting. And I did it the old-fashioned way," he was nearly cackling. "See, I took some random man I'd killed on the way over--oh what was his name, again? No matter. I used the body to project a bat logo into the sky. Isn't that ingenious?" the man clapped his hands. "Imagine, the _Batman_ being invited to a Guardian Angel tea-party!"

Axis' eyes widened. Luna raised an eyebrow, stepping forward from where she had been leaning.

"You're insane! You know what this means for you, don't you?" shouted Axis in fury, reaching for his gun.

"It means I've crashed two parties at once," spoke someone calmly from the other side of the lot, and immediately the lights vanished.

Batman swung onto the scene, moving in the darkness first to Axis. He tackled him to the ground. Not being able to see, Luna didn't risk firing her gun and possibly hitting Axis. Instead she aimed in the general direction of the client's car, sending off a small rocket. The car quickly engulfed in flames, lighting the garage once again.

Axis struggled to pin Batman, and finally twisted him into a hold.

Luna's gun hovered in their direction, at Batman's head. She hesitated, though. What would it mean to have Axis' rival for my affections dead? No possible future with Axis on her horizon.

She shot the departing client instead, then his henchmen. The two bodyguards fell, dead. But the man was still running, carrying with him the briefcase full of creds. She cursed.

Batman was beginning to make headway in freeing himself from Axis' grip.

"Luna!" yelled Axis in frustration, and Batman finally broke the hold. Wrapping his arms around Axis' waist, he jetted him into one of the lot's concrete pillars. Luna ignored Axis' cry for assistance, replacing her gun on her belt, waiting for them to finish so that they could leave.

Axis was pasted against the wall, held securely by Batman's grip on his collar. He glanced down at the emblem on Axis' chest, gritting his teeth in a controlled rage.

"Tell me who you work for!"

Axis didn't respond. Batman shoved harder.

Luna yawned, tapping a foot in impatience."Come _on_, Axis. Are you really going to let him push you around like that? Just shove him off and move on!"

By now Axis' temper had reached its limit, and he exerted his full strength. He manhandled Batman off of him with a grunt, then sent a searing punch into his jaw, sending him reeling at Luna's feet.

Batman began to rise up, but his elbows buckled. He blinked to clear his vision, then looked up at the masked face tilted down, close to his.

"So sorry, Batman. He gets like that when he's angry," Luna feigned sympathy, then slapped him harshly across his face.

Batman winced at the pain, then realized that her voice was not unfamiliar to him. The sneering, the attitude, the sarcasm...

This was my attacker.

Bitterness consumed him like a tidal wave, and Batman lunged. Before he could do much damage, Axis had kicked him in the back. Batman whirled and punched him in the gut, then kicked him. He was about to attack again, when a hand touched his shoulder from behind. Instantly, his body was gripped with burning agony. Luna let the radiation leave her suit and enter Batman's. Terry yelled in pain. Axis sat panting from the fight, and Luna gripped harder, only releasing Batman once he'd crumpled to the ground.

Luna kicked him with an angry curse, and Axis slowly rose to his feet, rubbing his jaw. They made their exit calmly, leaving Batman in a heap.


	10. Chapter 9

**DesertedMirage Says: **Thank you, **dispatcher652**, for reviewing. :)

* * *

"The boy knows about us, now. Something has to change."

My father gazed down wearily at the desktop, rolling a pen between his fingertips.

"You know that he won't stop until he reaches the bottom of it, and the only way to take care of him is to get rid of him, once and for all," Zeke continued, pausing in his pacing of the space before my father's desk. "Christopher, you've been putting this off for two years, now."

My father's jaw shifted. He was fully aware of the fact that he had a decision to make, and part of him knew that this problem would resurface eventually. As long as Batman was alive, the agency was in danger of being exposed and shut down.

Yet still…

"It was just _one _mission foiled, Zeke," my father gave an attempt to sound undaunted.

Zeke snorted. "_One mission _that will lead to many more, I'm sure."

"As long as India doesn't know that it's Terry, it's not an immediate concern," swiftly cut my father, looking up at him severely. "We can make up for the money lost on that mission--"

"But how much longer do you _really_ expect her to buy the notion that it's just another person hired by Wayne to be Batman, Chris?"

My dad rolled his tongue over his teeth, dropping the pen. He rubbed his forehead, twisting his chair. He had been hoping this discussion would never arise, banking on the fact that I was safe with him at the agency and no longer a foe. The original plan to kill his daughter's best friend was never an easy one to agree to, but it _did_ have my life attached to it. Now, however, the threat didn't seem quite as strong. But my dad knew that something had to be done eventually. Terry wasn't to be thrown off of my trail that easily.

"You have to kill Batman," pressed Zeke as my father hung his head in his hands. "Imagine what you'd have on your hands if he found your daughter," he dangled the ultimatum.

My dad sighed slowly, looking out at the mirror-like Gotham Lake. When he spoke, his voice was level and determined.

"He won't."

* * *

"I want to add more radiation protection to the suit," Terry explained quickly.

Bruce turned in his chair, facing Terry, who was striding into the cave, fresh from school.

"You didn't exactly tell me what happened last night when you decided to go out without first notifying me." Bruce noted unappreciatively.

Terry parked his bag beside his desk, which was angled to the Batcomputer. His elbow locked from stiffness for a moment, still sore from the injuries sustained in the parking garage fight with the guardian angels.

Bruce sat, closely watching him, waiting for an answer. "I had to learn from the news of the random death on the south side of town, since you neglected to mention it to me."

Terry turned his back on his mentor, sitting in the swivel chair with a silent sigh. He opened his laptop and began his research for the day.

"Two others were found dead in the Rawls Pharmaceutical parking garage. The article said the deaths were believed to be linked."

This time, Terry responded, "It was nothing new. Just the same old murders. I can't stop every crime, you know." His words were short and laced with curtness.

Bruce's brow lowered at Terry's attitude. "You haven't exactly been upfront with me, McGinnis. Have you forgotten that _you_ work for _me_?" He delivered the question more-so as fact than inquiry.

Terry shuffled through the search engine, unable to concentrate on what he was reading due to the anger surging through his veins.

"_I'm_ Batman now, remember?"

Bruce overlooked the rude declaration. "What are you investigating every day?"

Terry refused to give the answer and trap himself, knowing Bruce already knew that he was searching for me. He had kept it as much to himself as possible because he couldn't bear being told he was behaving "unreasonably." No, he wanted to secure his efforts quietly, and then prove everyone wrong…prove his own lingering doubts and fears wrong. There was no room for debate. Either he was going to find me or he wasn't. Terry didn't yet trust the former Batman enough to share this sentiment-driven determination, even with all of the proof he had discovered.

Yet even so, Terry also knew that he was furtively hoping that Bruce would support him. Bruce was, after all, the man he emulated and looked up to.

Bruce sighed when silence met his statement. He returned to his own research. "Well, tonight there is going to be a crime that you'll _have_ to stop. There's going to be an assassination attempt on the owner of Gotham Proscenium Theater. Seems as though he's been involving himself in the underworld and a hit's been placed on his life," Bruce paused, intentionally selecting his words. "Look for a group lurking in the shadows, some might be undercover. But they won't be difficult to spot once they're in costume; they'll be dressed like you, only with angel emblems on their suits."

Terry, who had been listening with half an ear, removed his eyes from his screen. He turned to look at Bruce, but the old man had shifted back to the Batcomputer.

He must have known all along…

Terry merely stared at the floor, feeling the gratitude swelling in his chest.

* * *

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"As much as I can with an assassination about to take place."

Axis' low snicker arose from the darkness on my left. His hand had been daringly positioned atop mine on the velvet armrest separating our seats, but he moved it now to straighten his flawless bow-tie.

"Just think of it as a _Phantom of The Opera _mission," he encouraged softly.

"You're just saying that because we're _watching_ _Phantom of The Opera_," I returned with a playful smile, smoothing my mint-green, satin gown.

"No," he defended slowly. "I was not being corny."

"Yes, you were."

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because I happen to know that you're a fan of _Phantom_ _of The Opera_."

A pause.

"_And_ because it's playing on the stage right before you and nothing else came to mind," I eventually added.

Axis shrugged with a small smile.

Our focus returned to the stage below our box. Christine, the enchanted, victimized heroine, was being lured into the Phantom's underground lair. I had never seen the play, only the movie version which had been recreated at least three times in the past thirty years. My favorite remake had always been the one from the beginning of the millennium, the one that Dana, Blade, Chelsea and I used to drool over at the dollar theater.

The Phantom was singing in his commandingly earthy, operatic tone. The sea of candles on the stage flickered and lapped, their reflections rippling in the water illusion on the stage floor. The Phantom took Christine's hand and helped her out of the boat, then swirled off his cloak in one beautiful motion.

I breathed an involuntary sigh. Axis chuckled at my side.

"My argument stands."

I cast him a smile.

"Guilty as charged," I admitted.

Gotham Proscenium Theater. An old, nineteenth century Broadway theater which had recently been renovated to its original splendor. Tonight was the grand opening, and our objective was to watch the play as civilians, then exit during the final act to change into costume. Murphy, another agent sitting a few boxes away, would back us up by sneaking into the owner's private box, then lead him off to the kill. Luna was staked-out in a hallway beyond the lobby, away from the watchful eyes of the ushers.

Axis coughed, shifting in his seat as he consulted his program. I glanced over, knowing he was waiting for the "Point of No Return" scene, where the Phantom would be trapped. I felt a rushing in my stomach. This was my first undercover mission involving an assassination. I _should_ have felt shame, and not just nervousness. But the serum's grip on me remained firm.

* * *

Terry rolled his shoulders in his tux, trying to find a more comfortable sitting position in the firm theater seat. Now that the overly friendly and flirty young woman sitting next to him had left for the restroom, he was free to prop his elbow on the armrest between them. He had only been semi-watching the opera on the stage, and trying not to seem too much of a jerk to his talkative neighbor. But he had a mission to foil, and his eyes were peeled for any suspicious activity, for a signal to suit up and intercept the angel perpetrators. He wanted to save the theater's owner from being murdered, but also to gather more information from the association he was believing to be linked to me.

Terry yawned despite his anxiousness, sinking lower into the chair. Before he could lean over the balcony railing and scan the audience for the umpteenth time, the girl had returned to the vacant seat and resumed her chatter.

* * *

The musical progressed, and the final act arrived. Axis watched calmly, sitting still as a stone. When the actors began to construct their plan to ambush the Phantom by using Christine as bait, I felt a hand touch mine again. I looked over at Axis. He smiled very shortly.

"Stay here and wait for the signal," he whispered casually, and he was gone, closing the door of our box behind him.

I scooted forward uneasily, wondering what had happened to cause him to leave before our cue. Had something gone wrong? And how would he have known? I hadn't seen him receive any messages.

I released a shaky sigh, wishing he had taken me with him.

_The best thing to do is stay here._

My eyes failed to remain on the stage, instead gliding over the heads below, the veiled faces in the boxes and balconies across from ours.

I tapped my foot, my thin heel pressing into the floor. Finally, when the frenetic strings from the orchestra pit began to elevate my heart-rate, I abandoned my program and stood to leave.

* * *

As I moved down the hallway leading to one of the bathrooms, I kept my eyes on the radar on my wristwatch. Axis' signal had been circling somewhere near the backstage area of the main theater.

The building had two performance halls, the one which had been renovated and where the play was taking place, and another one which was still in the remodeling process. The older hall was behind the refurbished one, a mirror-version. They were separated by a gigantic wall made up entirely of a two-way mirror. The older theater could see into the remodeled one, across the stage and into the audience, while the new one saw only a wall.

I tracked his signal, sneaking unnoticed by the light flow of crowd and staff members. Soon I was beyond the span of remodeled area, and was met with a barricade. A construction sign warned not to go any farther. Ignoring it, I stepped over the metal beams, being careful not to trip in my heels or snag my dress.

The music from the opera in the main hall was beginning to echo into the distance, but I could hear the first slinking notes of "The Point of No Return." My pace quickened. That was our cue.

The stretch of hallways here was darker, lit only by weak yellow construction lamps from above. My eyes roamed the dust-caked, shredded posters of past performances clinging to the dark, wooden walls. The floor was creaky and uneven, layered with dirt and cobwebs. I stumbled on a few overturned construction tools and cones, noticing the footprints on the grimy floorboards--two pairs of them.

_Someone led Axis here…_

Finally, I withdrew a penlight from my bag when I came upon a dead end. Squinting in the near-darkness, I shone the light on a sign nailed to a door on the left.

DO NOT ENTER.

I smirked, then reached for the knob, but not before feeling the wooden planks beneath my feet. Someone had obviously ripped them from the door, someone strong.

Inside was a mass of open, stifled space. The air was dry and musty, smelling of rotted cedar and dead flowers. Knowing that I could easily be walking into a trap, I readied my handgun and trained my light around me.

An expansive, seemingly endless, black floor, encased in decades of dust. It spread to tall walls carrying dilapidated beams and wooden stage props, and just ahead of me, a cloud of heavy curtains framing a hazy mirror. Through it, I could barely see the other stage, the actors and lights. This must have been the two-way mirror separating the two stages. As I stepped forward, gliding my light along the floor, I suddenly spotted something on the ground. A few yards ahead, someone was sprawled, unconscious.

Feeling the panic before I could think clearly, I rushed forward.

"Axis!" I shook his shoulders, seeing the blood trickling down his swollen jaw.

He let out a groan, but before I could make another move, a thud echoed a few feet away. I looked up, gun in hand.

The music escalated from a hum to a sudden burst of organs and strings. Silhouetted against the clouded light from the mirror, a figure with pointy, bat-like ears rose from a crouching position.


	11. Chapter 10

**DesertedMirage Says: **So...I wrote more. I didn't want to leave you guys hanging on that cliff for long. (And I'm on an action high, lol.)

**RedSharkBait, **don't even worry about it. :) Thank _you_ for the support and interest.

**dispatcher652, **haha, thank you. Hopefully this chapter should explain things. :)

Thank you to all reading. Writing this story brings me great joy, and sharing it with you all is even better.

* * *

My heart caught in my chest as a memory dashed across my mind.

"Max?" asked an imaginary voice.

"Terry?" I mouthed the name for the final time my memories would allow, instantly forgetting it.

"Is he alright?"

I blinked, and I saw clearly who was standing before me. Luna, in costume.

Smoothing a shaky hand over my hair, I sighed.

"I-I don't know." I remembered Axis, then quickly examined his face. There was a wound on the back of his head, and blood clung to his brown hair.

But when I reached to apply pressure with my handkerchief, Luna stopped me.

"_I'll_ take him," she muttered, pulling his arm up around her shoulders.

I frowned. "What happened here?"

Luna didn't answer, but roughly brushed past me, dragging Axis along with her.

I grasped her arm, not in the mood for her rude behavior.

"What happened, Luna?" I demanded this time.

She recoiled at my touch, whirling on me with a blazing glare.

"Do you_ really_ want to know?" she rasped angrily, then seemed to struggle with her wording when she continued, "This will always be _your fault_."

Luna moved for the door, and I watched her with arms crossed over my chest. How dare she pin everything that went wrong at the agency on me? I was sick of it. Of her claim over Axis, her hatred for me, her thinking she was superior to anyone and everyone. I held my tongue for as long as I could. This wasn't the time to fight, not with Axis hurt.

After a while, I noticed that she was struggling to open the door, and she cursed as she kicked it.

I smirked, and couldn't stifle my comment. "Is this a _locked door_ keeping the great Luna from escaping?"

"Shut your mouth. Like _you_ could do any better?" she tried to sound cool, but I knew that I was beginning to dig under her skin.

"Actually, yes, if you'd let me. If you can't pick it, then something's either blocking it or it's been sealed shut."

Luna puffed, ignoring my observations. "Sometimes I think you forget how truly worthless you are."

My skin burned with resentment, and all that kept me from altogether blowing up on her was Axis, who was still unconscious.

"What you think of me means nothing, but Axis is _hurt_," I shot, my voice layered with accusation. "I guess you only pretend to care about him. You never loved him."

I sensed her temper rising.

With great difficulty to remain calm, Luna gently placed Axis on the floor, then in a heartbeat, came flying toward me. My neck was gripped in her hands, back pressed against the cool mirror-wall.

"Do you realize I could kill you at any time I wanted, India?!"

Futilely, I tugged at her fingers, not having the advantage of my suit to match her enhanced strength. I cursed myself for not changing in the hallway before I'd entered.

"And we all know how _badly_ you want to!" I grunted through my limited air supply.

For a terrifying moment, Luna's clasp intensified. Before I could blackout, though, something dropped from the ceiling, bringing with it a shower of wooden beams.

Luna released me, and I collapsed, nearly unconscious. When I looked up, still trying to regain my wits, I saw two figures brawling, two pairs of bat ears.

They moved in and out of the darkness, between the shadows and into the murky light from the mirror. The music from the opera taking place in the other theater increased in volume, moving effortlessly through the thin walls.

When I realized what I was watching before me, I felt my heart leap.

"Batman…" I whispered.

But it wasn't who I was _really_ looking for. No, this was just a replacement, as the agency had told me.

I struggled to my feet, standing with my back to the mirror, against the light. Batman and Luna were wrestling in the middle of the room, until he landed a forceful punch into her jaw. He stood panting as she lay recovering from the blow. His gaze moved about him, until he spotted me. The split-second glance was abruptly interrupted by a sudden burst of white smoke from a flare. The room was quickly bathed in the thick cloud, glowing white from the burning flare illuminating the room.

From the fog, a bat-figure emerged, grasping my shoulders and throwing me to the floor. "Suit up NOW!"

I recognized Luna's voice in the command, and I mindlessly obeyed, quickly changing into my suit from the purse over my shoulder.

By the time I was in costume, the room was in a state of blind disarray. Luna's smoke screen was still in full effect, if not even stronger. The fog expanded in my lungs, and I coughed harshly. I could hear their violent punches and tumbling, ricocheting off of the walls. If it weren't for the blaring music on the opposite stage, we would have been discovered. Knowing we should try to escape before the music stopped, and that Axis needed medical attention, I began to walk in the direction of the door, my hands extended to feel my way around.

After tripping several times, I finally arrived. My hand closed around the cold metal knob, and I pulled with no avail, forgetting that it was stuck. With a grumble of frustration, I reached for the laser on my belt. After examining the doorframe, I learned that it was welded shut; Batman must have trapped us. Kneeling, and working clumsily in the white abyss, I eventually managed to cut through the bottom of the door.

"In-dia," sounded a faint voice on my right.

"Don't worry, Axis, we're almost out," I assured him, trying to move faster as the battle continued behind me.

I could see his hand when it grasped my wrist.

"No--_you_ need to get…out…of…here," Axis' voice sounded fervent, concerned.

"_You're_ the one with a nasty bruise," I tried to sound lighthearted to console him, but I was feeling oddly uneasy. I was worried for Axis' safety, but having Batman in the room was making me terribly nervous. But it was only someone else hired in his place, right?

"India, w-watch ou--"

The full weight of a body crashed into me suddenly. As we pressed against the door, I felt a snapping pang in my back. The other person slid to the ground, but I couldn't tell who it was--Luna or Batman.

Groaning, I staggered a few feet away, holding my aching back. Before I could fully recover, though, I saw a black mass shoot through the clouds toward me. I hadn't any time to react, and I was roughly tackled. Both of us went tumbling through props and decaying stage equipment. The wind was knocked from my chest as I was pinned to a wall.

"Tell me who you work for!" growled my attacker with a sinister edge, a male. Batman.

Still trying to find my air again, I couldn't reply. This made Batman angrier, and I hit the wall harder.

"TELL ME!"

Breaking free of my shock, I pulled up my knees and kicked him off of me. I followed as he went flying, darting forward in my rocket boots. Before I could land on top of him, he kicked me backwards, over his head. I rolled into a pile of props, ripping the arm of my suit when I landed. A jagged wooden steak dragged through my skin, and I yelled in agony. Feeling dizzy with pain, I rose to my feet, searching for Batman. I heard a footfall to my left, then a tapping sound behind me. I spun in every direction, not knowing where to expect him to launch from. It was as though he was everywhere, yet nowhere to be seen through the haze.

I clenched my fists in worried anticipation. The way he had spoken earlier, this was not the type of Batman I had remembered. Even Terry had never sounded so menacing during our most intense missions.

No, this Batman was _more than_ angry, and I was his target.

My heartbeat galloped to a sprinting hammer, and I swallowed. I no longer knew where the mirror was, nor where the door and Axis were. The fog was too thick, and I was disoriented. There was no point in using my infrared sensors, the GAA's smoke screens were sophisticated enough to disable their effectiveness.

And then it came, as though in slow-motion. A leg swiped over my ankles, tripping me and pulling me to the floor. Instinctively, I lifted my arms to block the next attack. When I tried to fling a punch, Batman ducked.

We were quickly scuffling once more, hand-to-hand. His strength was nearly unparalleled, even in my own suit and with all of my training. Bruce must have upgraded the Batsuit, and this new Batman must have been stronger. He matched my every jab with a counter-attack. I'm not sure if he was winning or if we were in a dead heat. Neither of us could see very well, but if we could, our fighting would have been even more brutal.

We gripped each other's shoulders, trying to wrestle the other to the ground. Psyching him out, I let go and wrapped my arms around his torso, then flew straight forward. After bursting through several props, we finally shot through what must have been the mirror wall. It felt as though my hand had been sliced wide open when we plunged through the glass. Shrieks rose around us as we slid across the stage, knocking over equipment and actors. The colossal, _Phantom of The Opera _trademark chandelier came cascading to the stage floor, spreading sparks of electricity and sprawling flames onto the curtain and props.

The theater was suddenly in chaos, with a hungry fire devouring the restored performance hall, and shouts of horror from the fleeing audience. Woozy with fatigue and pain, I climbed out from under the edge of the chandelier, which had landed on me. I looked over my shoulder in time to see Batman saving a woman from being crushed by a flame-engulfed column. I watched him only for a moment, feeling a memory in my heart despite all of the mayhem.

Leaping into the air, I spread my wings and jetted out of the theater.

* * *

"What did you see?"

Terry sat on the examination table, staring at the floor, his expression solemn.

Bruce was putting away the tape he had used to bandage a cut on Terry's collar. Bruce's vidlink of the scene had been interrupted by one of the blows from the battle with Luna.

"The angels," Terry answered quietly, holding his sore wrist.

Visions of the smoke-filled room stung his thoughts, the shattering mirror, his thwarted plan to inconspicuously trap the angels in the old theater…

Terry had sneaked away to "kidnap" the CEO of the theater himself, before the angels could. And when they learned that the man had been sent away from the building on the grounds of a family emergency, they had followed Terry's note on the empty seat, instructing them to meet Batman in the old theater. Then, Terry waited in the rafters.

A man entered, holding a gun. Before Terry could strike, the door opened again. This time, it was a man with light-blonde hair, but it was too dim to see either of their features clearly. The blonde man attacked the other from behind, knocking him unconscious onto the floor. The blonde man seemed to nod toward a corner of the room, giving a signal as though someone else was there. The door immediately opened again, and the blonde man rushed into the shadows before he could be seen. A woman walked in, her light green dress almost glowing in the near-darkness. She had stooped to check the fallen man, and Terry watched in silence. He didn't want to give himself away before gathering more details.

Then there came another woman, this one wearing an angel uniform, appearing out of nowhere before the mirror. Terry watched the two of them have a bitter exchange before the suited one attacked the woman in the dress. Then Terry arrived onto the scene, knowing the suited one was the same person from the parking garage--my assailant from the rooftop in Old Gotham two years ago.

"How many were there?" pressed Bruce.

"Two, three. I don't know," Terry exhaled a tired sigh, trying to sort his thoughts. It had all happened so quickly. He hadn't seen much of anything through all of the smoke. And what he had seen and heard beforehand was in darkness and tainted by the loud music of the play. "All I knew was I had to get it out of her--"

"Who?"

"The one with the angel suit--the one who shot Max. I tried to ask her who she worked for."

Bruce nodded. "Did you get any information? I lost the audio feed as well."

Terry grumbled as he hopped down from the table. "No. And she seemed to fight differently after a while. It was like she was holding back," he scratched his head, ruffling his black hair, still holding shards of glass from when he changed out of the suit.

"And you never saw any of their faces?" Bruce asked.

Terry shook his head to clear his thoughts. "No. Just silhouettes and shadows…" he frowned after a moment as a particular image came to mind. "But I did see the one in the dress, the one who argued with the angel," he added slowly.

Bruce's eyebrows lifted. "Oh?"

Terry's frown deepened as bits and pieces of the argument returned to his memory. "Yeah… But it was just a silhouette…" he was pacing now. "But she did say her name." He closed his eyes, massaging his forehead.

"What was it?"

"India," Terry answered without having to grasp for recollection, opening his eyes. "India," he repeated softly. then suddenly crushed a fist into his palm as it all dawned on him.

Bruce turned to walk toward the Batcomputer, already about to search the name in the database.

Terry combed his fingers through his hair as the realizations hit like rapid-fire. The serum, the way the man in the ocean-side cave was addicted to it. He had called his overseers "angels," and they wore the same suit as the woman on the rooftop that night. Could it have been a brainwashing drug the man was after? To keep their employees quiet, perhaps? And the angels, if they were utilizing this serum, then the girl in the dress before the mirror could have been…

"Tell me what you find," Terry called over his shoulder as he pulled his shirt back on. He slid his hand into his pants pocket, gently pulling out my heartbeat necklace.

He spoke softly as he touched the pendant, "I think I just saw Max."

* * *

"I promise it won't burn," Axis smiled, speaking honestly.

I looked from his caring, aurora eyes down to my hand, cradled carefully in his. He held a cloth inches away from the cut across my palm.

"I trust you," I said quietly, and he smiled again.

Sure enough, there was no pain as he applied the ointment to the wound. Three weeks of stitches had obviously helped with the healing.

I hadn't been on a mission since that night at the theater. Mainly because of my injuries, but I sensed that my father had been shaken by the sudden appearance of Batman. I hadn't told him that I was the one who fought with him, but I supposed that he was afraid I'd get rebellious from just being around Batman, even though they had me convinced it wasn't Terry.

I sighed as my gaze floated out at the stretching, sunset-kissed beach. The wind carried my long, dark hair over my shoulder. I shivered despite the warm sun and sand in which we were sitting.

"It's warmer in the water, don't worry," Axis assured as he readied a bandage, gently wrapping it around my palm.

"It _should_ be, it's April," I spoke through a lengthy yawn.

"Which means a very important birthday is approaching."

I chuckled dryly. "In three months. That's not exactly 'approaching.'"

Axis grinned lightly, carefully winding the bandage. "You'll be twenty-years-old. What are you going to do?"

"Nothing."

"What do you _want_ to do?" he rephrased the question.

"Nothing."

"India…" Axis sighed at my lack of enthusiasm.

"It's not that big of a deal. My life's already action-packed enough--to a fault," I nodded to my hand.

"Then we'll do something quiet and low-key," he decided with a soft squeeze of my hand to secure the bandage. "All done," Axis said as he tucked the supplies away into the bag we'd brought.

Standing, he extended his hands to help me up. I lifted an eyebrow at him, and he chuckled, remembering my injured palm.

"Ah, I forgot," he said, then stooped to effortlessly lift me up by my armpits. But instead of letting go and walking back around to face me, Axis' hands remained on my waist. I felt his nose in my hair, slightly close to my ear.

"Does your hand feel better, India?" he questioned softly, almost whispering.

"It does," I answered truthfully, shivering again. "But what about you?"

"What _about_ me?" he asked with a genuinely confused look on his handsome face, tilting his head down to look at me as he caught my bleached lock of hair in his fingers.

_You're so much like him when you look at me that way…_

I breathed a delayed laugh, losing control of my facial muscles. "Axis. You got hit in the head. Remember?"

"Um…" Axis began to wonder aloud, but had become distracted with taking my good hand into his, playing with my fingers.

I rolled my eyes, although my lips were smiling.

"Didn't think so," I chuckled.

His arms slid completely around my waist for a moment that was much too short, and then he ambled toward the tide rolling onto the beach. I watched him slide his hands into his khaki pants pockets as he stepped barefooted into the ocean, standing with his back to me. The brilliantly golden sunset silhouetted him against the horizon.

Axis turned to me, smiling widely and beckoning. "What are you waiting for? C'mon!"

Laughing, I walked forward to join him.

* * *

"I don't ever want to do that again. The next time you decide to go out on a limb and take matters into your own hands at Axis' expense, do it alone."

Zeke's black eyes rolled at Luna's icy accost.

"Luna, Luna dear," he sighed impatiently, folding his hands on his desktop. "Axis is fine. All is well," he chuckled smoothly, tugging off his black tie. "And I'd say it was a rather romantic blind date, wouldn't you?" he emphasized his wordplay; Luna frowned in another direction. "Battling in the smoke, tricking Batman into thinking India was you," Zeke continued, "two heartbroken lovers tearing each other to shreds…" he sighed blissfully, spewing his poisonous words with ease. "It was like killing two lovebirds with one stone--and of course, you make a very good stone, Luna."

Luna's eyes rolled. "You didn't kill them, Zeke. Your plan failed."

Zeke frowned this time. "Who said I was trying to kill them?"

"You, when you set me up to it!" sliced Luna.

Zeke began to laugh in amusement. "I was only whetting their appetites," he waved a hand. "Not everything must be done quickly and painlessly, Luna. No, I'd like a big theatrical finish for this job. There's absolutely no stopping the boy now," he paused for effect. "I'd wager that you know better than anyone how feeble and destructive young romance can be."

Luna's jaw clenched. She didn't respond.

"And aren't _you_ the one who's supposed to be concocting some massive plan to escape and take the rest of us down?" Zeke inquired with an eyebrow raised.

Luna stared coldly out the window of Zeke's office, angrily chewing her bubble gum.

"It doesn't involve Axis getting hurt _nor_ does it kiss up to the Gibsons in the process." She defiantly propped her black leather boots onto the coffee table, one at a time.

Zeke hummed thoughtfully, stroking his chin as he rose from the seat behind his desk. "You _do_ have a point," he strolled to stand before the window, crossing his arms over his chest. "But do you really think my plan is that amateur?"

Luna rolled her eyes, tossing her chestnut brown hair. "You were willing to go out on a mission, undercover, _trick Axis_, the most powerful and influential agent here, not to mention Christopher's most trusted ally _and_ his daughter's love interest--" she scowled as she spoke the dreaded words, "--and place yourself in danger with Terry McGinnis, the love-crazed boy who's willing to kill to get her back. And you expect me to think it's not amateur for you to conquer the agency _and_ Batman single-handedly."

Zeke smiled wickedly, tapping his blonde-stubbled chin with one finger. "Yes, it does sound rather stupid, doesn't it? But it is, after all, exactly what _you're_ doing," he observed with amusement. "You see why we have more in common than you'd think," he laughed. "You want to leave more than anything,_ I'm_ willing to _do_ anything to take over."

"I wouldn't follow you," muttered Luna. She fumbled in her pocket for a cigarette and lighter. "You think I'm on your side, Zeke," she lit the cigarette and placed it into her mouth. "But I'm on _no one's_ side." She breathed a puff of smoke.

Zeke smirked. "Oh you will be, Luna," he stepped forward, snatching the cigarette from her lips, taking a smoke for himself. "All it takes is Axis' safety on the line, and you'd do _anything_. I think you underestimate your own sentiments," he smiled darkly, then sighed again. "But at least we have a break in the action, and ample time to plan," his voice lowered. "I hear Chris is sending her off on vacation, far, far away," he glowered out the window, watching the couple standing on the beach. "I suppose that's _one_ way of keeping her away from Batman, but there's always another..."


	12. Chapter 11

**DesertedMirage Says: **Hello everyone! Wow, I am so sorry for that delay. I had some issues going on, but here I am. I was writing whenever I got the chance, which wasn't very often. But I'm finally done with this chapter. I really owed this chapter to you, it was meant to be longer with more scenes, but I hope this is enough to get the ball moving again. There isn't too much more to go in this story (it won't be as long as _Guardian Angel_ part one was), so please stay tuned and I will do my best to make it worth it. :)

Thank you so so much for your support while I was away, thank you to **dispatcher652, RedSharkBait, Honeychica04 (welcome and thank you so much for reading all of this!). **And hi **bubbles'cute**. Thank you for reading and reviewing! It was different here without your input! I'm glad you're still with me and thank you.

****And by the way, I have a blog now for this story: guardianangelstory. b l o g s p o t . c o m (without spaces). Drop by and enjoy it. ^_^**

**

* * *

**

Terry stared out the foggy window, stretching his legs before him beneath the table. Across from him, the booth was empty, but only according to his eyes. In his mind, there was someone seated before him, smiling at him.

It was his first time in Terra since being there with me two years ago. But Terry was determined to make it the last time he came to the coffee house without me.

It was raining outside, just as it was when he'd broken into the building after closing time to pour out his heart to me.

"Are you ready to order, sir?" chimed a voice from his right.

Terry's thoughts jolted. He looked up to see a young server waiting to take his order, aged around fifteen or sixteen, with short, spiky red hair.

"Yeah, just a blueberry smoothie," he replied, handing her the menu without needing to consult it.

She nodded. "One blueberry smoothie. It'll be right out--"

"Oh," Terry added, a thought occurring to him, "um, can you actually make that a strawberry banana smoothie, please?" He recalled our favorite flavor from high school.

The waitress chewed her lip. "Oh, that flavor's been discontinued, I'm sorry."

"Oh…" Terry responded quietly. Time really had passed…

"The management wanted to add more non-traditional smoothies a few months ago," the waitress tried to explain lightheartedly. "All thanks to competition with the new place that just opened across the street, I guess." She showed an apologetic smile.

Terry nodded with a forced smile in return. "Yeah."

"Um, but…y'know, I could probably try to work something out and see if they can whip up a strawberry banana smoothie for you," she added kindly.

"No promises, though, right?" Terry chuckled.

The waitress laughed as she left for the kitchen.

While she was gone, Terry reached inside of his backpack and pulled out his laptop. Before beginning his usual research, he paused to scoop the necklace from his jeans pocket. Propping his elbows on the glass-tiled tabletop, he gazed at the shiny, metal heart pendant. Dangling the chain between his fingers, he held the charm up to one ear. It was silent on the other end, but he didn't worry. He hadn't received a signal every hour of the day, but he always got one at night. Terry would check for my heartbeat every night, sometimes falling asleep with the pendant beneath his ear. It calmed him, hearing the steady thumping when all the rest of the world was silent. If we were in the same time zone, then it meant that I was wearing the other necklace when I was sleeping. It made Terry feel as though he was watching over me while I slept, listening to my heartbeat.

Bruce had been searching the name "India" for the past week, exploring various criminal databases and alias records. He had suggested to Terry utilizing the EKG heart monitor technology in our necklaces to track the location of the one I wore. That way, it could be traced like a global positioning signal. But at the same time, it had to be done carefully, and only once they were certain it wasn't all a trap. Part of Terry wanted to forsake all of the tedious investigations and precautions and simply go for it, but he knew that it was wise and in my best-interest to be extremely careful and professional. The agency he was dealing with were undoubtedly masters at their craft, thus Batman had to be two steps ahead.

"One strawberry banana smoothie."

Terry smiled as the waitress slid the creamy, pink beverage before him.

"Shway. Thanks a lot," he smiled.

"No problem. Maybe they'll bring it back now," she beamed, then moved to take another table's order.

A few minutes into his research, Terry was sipping on his smoothie when his cell phone rumbled on the tabletop.

"Hey Chelse, what's up?" Terry answered the call with a cheery greeting.

"Trying to get away from studying," Chelsea sighed from the other line.

"But finals are in a few weeks."

"Oh yeah, I forgot you like to stay a good month ahead of everyone else, Mr. Pre-Med."

Terry chuckled at her jab. "C'mon, just 'cause I'm at Gotham U now doesn't mean I've made up my mind yet."

"Well, I think it does," laughed Chelsea. "And you should embrace it."

Terry sighed. "So what do you want?" he pretended to sound impatient.

"Just to chat with one of the few people from Hamilton I stay in touch with...and maybe to vent."

"Hmm. Brian again?" Terry guessed, balancing the phone on his shoulder while he tapped through his laptop's search engine with one hand.

"Who else is it ever? Are you busy?"

"Not too much to chill."

"Okay, where to?"

"Terra, actually."

There was a pause.

"You're there now?" Chelsea sounded a little surprised, then added gently, "I mean, that's cool, I just didn't know if--"

"Chelse, it's fine," Terry smiled. "It's good to be back. But get this, they stopped making strawberry banana smoothies."

"What? How lame."

"Yeah. So see you in a bit?"

"Sure thing."

Chelsea arrived minutes later, toting a backpack over her shoulder and wearing a brown raincoat. She waved when she found Terry sitting along the window facing the street, then slid across from him with a sigh.

"No need for them to change the place much, huh?"

Terry smirked. He closed his laptop as his eyes skimmed the surroundings of the updated coffee house.

"I'm trying to tell myself it looks better, but…" his attempt to sound neutral failed.

Chelsea smiled lightly. "Doesn't work, does it?"

Terry chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Not really. Did you eat yet?"

"Just cafeteria food from school. I'll probably order something more edible a little later," she poked his plastic cup of smoothie. "Worked some charm with the waitress, eh?"

"Of course," Terry grinned smugly.

Chelsea snickered, then sighed with a toss of her now shoulder-length, light blonde hair. "You know, I always told myself I wouldn't do this."

"Do what?" Terry frowned.

"Grow it out."

"Oh," he sipped his drink, noting her hair. "You don't like it?"

Chelsea's blue eyes rolled. "Ugh. No. I feel twice my age. I'm twenty, a young college student," she muttered dully, staring out the window into the rain.

Terry laughed a little, sensing she was holding some information from him. "So why'd you do it?"

Chelsea breathed another sigh, propping her chin in her hand. "Brian," she admitted with slight shame. "But is it really that bad for me to have done the whole drastic-style-change-to-snag-an-older-man?"

Terry considered, then shrugged. "Um. I don't know…I'm not a girl."

Chelsea chuckled airily, pulling out her laptop. "Yeah, I forgot…"

"What?" Terry threw, pretending to look offended.

"So what's your homework looking like these days?" she asked.

Terry set down his smoothie, sliding it across the table between his hands.

"Just the usual. Math and science insanity."

"Which you're acing," Chelsea was quick to highlight.

"Just barely."

"C'mon…"

Terry waved away her praise.

"You do remind me of someone though," Chelsea said as she began to type into her laptop.

Terry pulled up the sleeves of his black sweater. "Who?"

"Max."

He gave a small smile. "Yeah."

"But be honest - am I compromising too much?"

Terry blinked. "How so?"

"The hair."

"Dunno'. How old is the guy again?"

"Twenty four," Chelsea supplied, frowning thoughtfully. "And done with college, mature…nice-looking--"

"Into you," Terry added for her.

"Sometimes."

"C'mon Chelse, own up, he likes you."

"Whatever," she shrugged, smiling just a little and ducking her head behind her laptop screen to hide her blush.

Terry laughed as he finished his smoothie. "I thought you were trying to get _away_ from studying…" he pondered after she had been typing in silence for a couple of minutes.

"Mmm, it's not studying," she replied half-heartedly, slightly distracted. "Uptown."

"Uptown," Terry repeated with a smirk, twisting to prop his feet beside him on the bench as he leaned his back against the window. "More like 'Cracktown.'"

"Terry, just because you're, like, fifty years behind on the times doesn't mean social networking sites aren't useful," she spoke over the screen. "And why exactly _are_ you the last person on earth to not have an online profile?"

"Because I believe it's a mind-control device to get us to go kill ourselves one day."

Chelsea giggled at his paranoia. "_Whatever_ McGinnis…" she spoke through a yawn. "But seriously, I really think you'd like it if you gave it a chance."

Terry laughed shortly, pressing his palms onto his head and closing his eyes. "I doubt it."

"You're just trying too hard to be different and shway," Chelsea joked.

"No."

"I think you are… Either that or you're hiding something."

Terry's brow furrowed. He opened one eye and looked over at the screen Chelsea's face was hidden behind. He debated replying, and ended up opting for the silent treatment.

"So are you gonna' join, or are you too scared?" Chelsea persisted casually.

"I'm not scared, Chelse."

"Okay, then what's stopping you?"

"I just don't want to take part in something as lame and public as Uptown," explained Terry with a grumble. "I mean, my _grandma _had one of those when she was a kid. It's stupid that they're still around."

"Hmm," was all Chelsea said in response, still tapping away into the computer.

Terry's frown deepened as a lengthy pause ensued.

"You really think you can get me to join, huh?"

Chelsea peeped over her laptop screen. "I do."

Terry rolled his eyes. "I've fought it all through high school and now college, Chelse. I think I'm good."

Chelsea grinned as Terry resettled into his seat. "Actually, according to Uptown, it says there is a profile for a Terry McGinnis, but it hasn't been accessed since the summer of 2039."

Terry pretended to be choking and began to cough. "Uh..yeah, that's just…y'know, a fake one my buds made for me. You know how the guys were back in high school."

Chelsea chuckled. "Suure. Wanna' know what I think?"

"Not really."

She rolled her eyes. "I think you're scared to admit that you really find Uptown shway."

"I really don't, Chelse."

"Well," she sighed. "The only other reason you'd abandon your profile is if you had some embarrassing secret that happened in senior year. Like something you'd never want any of the other students to know. Maybe you're a closet nerd? A chick-flick fan?"

Chelsea closed her laptop, folding her arms atop the table. Terry was staring at the opposite wall, trying to appear cool, but his fingers were hammering away on top of the backrest.

"_Or_," Chelsea veered, a mischievous glint in her eye. "of course, you could always be…"

Terry's fingers drummed faster.

"What? I could always be what?" he finally blurted.

Chelsea laughed at his unease, then shrugged. "I was gonna' say a vampire, but you probably wouldn't get it."

Terry frowned in relieved confusion. "Uh…no, I wouldn't."

She snickered. "It's a chick thing. Anyway, your behavior's making me think you actually are hiding something," she continued to jest, laughing now. "Who'd you _think_ I was gonna' say--Batman?"

Terry blinked, then hurled himself into a fit of poorly executed, manic laughter.

Chelsea chuckled along for a moment, until she frowned and chewed her lip.

"_Me_, _Batman_? C'mon, Chelse. I mean, it's not like I don't have the build or suaveness for it or anything…" Terry tried to play along.

But Chelsea continued to mull it over, scratching her cheek.

"I don't know, Ter. Now that I think about it…" her voice trailed.

Terry's smile slowly began to disappear. "C'mon Chelse, be serious. I'm not Batman."

Chelsea ignored his denunciation, now leaning forward and looking genuinely intrigued. "Now, wait just a second McGinnis," she stroked her chin. "Let me think this over, because I might actually be onto something."

"You're serious…?" Terry frowned, then donned another fake smile. "Chelsea--"

"You were always late for school, always disappearing whenever Batman appeared, always standing Dana up, always stressed, always sore…"

"Okay, I admit it, I was still in the gang in senior year," he lied. "Now can we please move on?" Terry wasn't pretending to be amused anymore.

Chelsea merely looked at him, eyes widened slightly. She waved a finger at him.

"You didn't seem too upset by the whole vampire notion."

"And? I don't believe in vampires and neither do you."

"That's _not_ what I mean, Terry."

"Chelse--"

"You're Batman."

Terry clenched his jaw, now dropping his legs to sit normally in the seat. He dragged his fingers through his dangling black locks, then sighed heavily.

"Chelsea. I am not Batman," he stated firmly, speaking quietly as his fingers balled into fists on the table.

"Then why are you so pissed all of a sudden?" Chelsea was leaning farther forward, speaking just as seriously. "Just a second ago you were Mr. Chuckles and now it's like I've struck a nerve--" she accused quickly.

"Because Batman isn't supposed to have his real identity out in the frikkin' open, Chelsea!" Terry finally spat.

Chelsea's mouth formed the letter "o," and she gasped sharply.

"Oh my god--"

"Do not scream this to the world, please!" Terry hissed, glancing anxiously about him.

"I-I'm not…" she reassured, now leaning back and rubbing her forehead. "Wow…" she breathed. "Wow! This is…wow."

"Ugh. Slaggit." Terry was mumbling into his hands as he dropped his head onto the table.

"How did I not see this before? I mean, I did sometimes think…but I just didn't know for sure or I didn't believe I was right but--Terry, you're him! This is shway."

"No it's not, Chelse. Now you know about it and it's supposed to be a secret!" Terry groaned, then shook his head. "You know what? I don't care. Just please don't tell…this isn't some high school gossip, Chelse. Lots of secrecy is involved with this and people's lives are on the line and my family and--ugh. You can't just go sharing this with--"

"Terry McGinnis would you shut up!?"

Terry sat wide-eyed and lips pressed together at Chelsea's angry command.

"Why in the crap do you think I would tell someone about this?! Hello, we aren't teenagers anymore! Hell, I'm like six months older than you anyway which makes me twenty and _you_ nineteen, amigo. And just because you admitted that you're Batman and I overheard doesn't mean I can't celebrate just a little!" she delivered the lecture in one agitated breath.

Terry sniffed after a pause. "Um… Can I talk yet? Or are you going to kill me?"

Chelsea let out a laugh at his hesitant expression. "Yes. I'm just saying," she shrugged. "You don't have to worry about me telling. I just think it's shway. So how do you feel?"

"About you knowing?"

Chelsea nodded. "Yeah, don't you have to like kill me now or shoot some forgetfulness drug through my veins?"

Terry began to smile, but the irony in her sentence brought an ache over his heart. He swallowed, staring down at the table, remembering the night in the theater, the silhouetted figure against the mirror. "No…" he answered truthfully. "I just…" he sighed. "Chelsea, you're one of my closest friends, right?"

"Right," Chelsea smiled supportively with a nod.

"And you'd never betray me or anything or--"

"Yes, Terry, yes. Now what's on your mind?"

Terry took a deep breath, then released it. "Okay. I--see, Max isn't…she's…Max is alive."

Chelsea's face went from being expectant to blank, until she frowned in confusion.

Terry sighed. "Let me explain…"

Terry went on to disclose all that he knew about my case, including the fact that I had been Batgirl, leading her up to the present, the necklaces, the theater, everything (using vague terms for "Batman" and "Batgirl" for privacy, of course). When he was done, the coffee house was nearly empty and closing time was approaching.

Chelsea had long-since ordered food, and she sat munching on a bag of chips and listening as Terry concluded.

"…so that's where things are now," he scratched his head. "I just…I need to figure this place out, where it is and how I can get to her. And I've gotta' be really careful, Chelse. I don't want to make matter worse for her or get her hurt if she's being controlled."

"Not to mention that you're an enemy, to them. So you getting involved could make things messy," Chelsea quipped, then sighed as she crumpled her bag of chips. "Gosh, I'm just trying to think of what you could do--like some bait you could leave for her, if that's even possible…"

Terry hung his head in his hands, then yawned. "Yeah…"

"I wonder if they let her have internet access--" Chelsea's voice cut-off, and she suddenly snapped her fingers. "Uptown!"

Terry looked up, frowning. "What?"

"Uptown, Ter!"

"I've checked already, Chelse," Terry sighed. "She would've changed her name anyway and her old account from high school's been closed."

"That's not what I mean," she said quickly, then sighed as she grasped her laptop, stood up and plopped beside him on his side of the booth. "Here, just watch."

Terry looked on as Chelsea went to the social networking website. He expected her to login, but instead she clicked "Sign Up." Chelsea began to type "Batman" into the name field, and opened another window to set up a fake email account.

"See? Batman gets an Uptown," Chelsea smiled.

But Terry didn't look as enthusiastic.

"I don't know, Chelse. What are the odds that she'd find _my_ profile, the real one, out of all of the fake ones."

Chelsea paused in her typing and looked at him, a playful smile on her lips. "Ah, so you_ do_ know more about Uptown than I thought!"

Terry grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. He shrugged. "So I got curious about my alias' popularity. Big deal."

Chelsea chuckled. "Well. We are going to make you the most convincing Batman profile that will give just enough details to make it look like a fan page to some unsuspecting nerd, but to _Max_, who was once Batgirl and knows you in and out, it will be bait."

"_If _she even _has_ a computer, internet access, the urge to check a lame networking site--"

"Terry," Chelsea truncated his pessimistic rant. "You may be Batman with lots of tricks and spy resources at your disposal, but sometimes it may just take the more simple methods to crack a case."

Terry looked at her, then sighed as he slid the laptop over to himself and began to type information into the "About Me" field on the profile.

"Who would've thought Terry McGinnis and Batman would be getting a networking profile," he mumbled. "I guess everything changes eventually."

* * *

**I promise there will be more very soon! I just had some things come up that kept me from writing for a little while but I'm hoping to be back on the grind here.**


	13. Chapter 12

**DesertedMirage Says: **Thanks for the reviews! **bubbles'cute, dispatcher652, RedSharkBait, **I appreciate your feedback. Thanks for reading!

"Uptown" is sort of like the Facebook of 2039 and beyond (excuse the pun), but I'm also combining all of the networking sites into one, so according to this take on Batman Beyond, those sites all combined into one, "Uptown." :)

And yes, I'm very glad to have Chelsea back in the picture as well!

Be sure to check out the blog if you'd like more about the story, including the lovely playlists! guardianangelstory. b l o g s p o t . com (without the spaces, of course). I'm pretty sure I have it set up so that you don't have to be a member of the site to post a comment on the blog, so feedback should be easy to leave! :)

Thanks, guys!

* * *

Everyone was laughing and chatting over the delicious cocktails and "tapas" (Spanish snacks), grouped around the long wooden island in the spacious kitchen, or gathered in clusters around the blue swimming pool. But Alicia was detached from the partying, seated alone in the living room. Enrique's family, his mother's Spanish relatives, were affluent, and Señor and Señora Vasquez's home was expansive and cozy, a picturesque Barcelona seaside villa.

Alicia adjusted her knee-length, yellow halter-dress. The bright sunlight glinted on her left ring finger as she did so, catching her eye. She glanced down at the diamond, recalling when Enrique had bended to one knee to ask for her hand in marriage almost a year prior. They had married shortly thereafter, a highly publicized celebrity wedding on a South American beach.

Alicia was still growing accustomed to the public life of being married to an actor - the interviews, the parties, the cameras. Everyone was curious to see who Enrique Vasquez had wed, where she was from, how they had met. The epicenter of the intrigue was Spain, where Enrique's mother was from. But Alicia knew that once Enrique's American primetime drama premiered, it would garner even more interest in the States.

Through the open doorway a few yards away, Alicia could see the pool, where friends and family of Enrique's were conversing in Spanish. After just a year of launching herself into assimilating the language, Alicia was able to pick up most of their words. She blushed whenever her name was mentioned.

She had watched Enrique for a while, mingling in the kitchen with his younger nieces and nephews, until she lost track of him in the crowd.

"Since when were you this shy?"

Alicia jumped at the voice by her side.

"Don't scare me like that, Enrique!" she reprimanded, but smiled with gladness to see him.

Enrique laughed and dropped beside her onto the sofa. "I apologize. But why aren't you out there showing off how much Spanish you've mastered in record time?"

Alicia chuckled as Enrique reached for her hand and pressed it to his lips.

"Because I haven't _really_ learned all that much, babe."

"Alicia," Enrique rolled his eyes. "They won't bite. They were captivated by you at the wedding, and they still are."

"I just don't want to make an idiot of myself," she sighed, gazing into the kitchen full of wealthy TV personalities and celebrities. "Some of them are people you only dream about meeting…like reporters…celebrities…"

Enrique grinned playfully. "Well, you married one, did you not?"

Alicia rolled her eyes, then straightened the collar of his white button-down shirt. "Yes, but that's different. I _know_ you."

"Only because you first _got to_ know me."

"Well, yeah, but--"

"Alicia," Enrique cut in, taking her hand on his neck into his. "They aren't the bad gossip journalists. They're the friendly ones," he shrugged, looking her in the eye. "And they know much better than to say anything bad about me, and that goes even more especially for you. Now please come join me," he smiled slowly. "Even though, of course, _I'd_ personally much rather be alone with you."

Alicia grinned before they neared for a kiss.

As they drew away, a knock floated from the kitchen doorway.

"Hey little brother, hope we're not interrupting."

Enrique's older brother ambled into the room, a tall man who resembled Enrique in his dark eyes and copper skin, only more slight in appearance. At his side was his wife, Monique, a quiet and stylish woman with a cool smile and long, blonde curls.

Enrique stood up to grip his brother's hand. "No, but you're running late as always, Marco."

"Just fashionably late," shrugged Marco, who turned to Alicia with a smile as Enrique greeted Monique.

"Hello Alicia. Has our crazy family scared you enough yet?" Marco chuckled as he offered her a hug.

"Of course not," Alicia replied with a smile.

"Not yet, eh?" Marco chuckled, then turned to Enrique. "Hey, you need to take a look at my new bike, man."

"You came on the bike?" Enrique's eyebrows lifted.

"I wasn't able to convince him not to," Monique joked lightly.

Marco shrugged sheepishly, then laid a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Mind if I steal him for a bit, Alicia?"

"No, that's fine," Alicia chuckled.

Enrique grinned at Alicia before planting a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Have fun, okay?" he encouraged her gently.

As the two brothers disappeared down the hallway leading to the front door, discussing cars and motorcycles, Monique cast Alicia a smile.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Sure," Alicia replied politely, sitting back down onto the sofa as Monique did the same.

"How long have you two been here?" Monique asked conversationally in a Spanish-accented voice, tucking her designer purse against the armrest.

"Oh, about a half-hour, I think," Alicia supplied.

Monique nodded as she smoothed the skirt of her blue sundress, and a silence filled the air.

Alicia glanced sideways at her new sister-in-law. Monique and Marco had married just a year before she and Enrique. Marco was an up and coming singer in Spain, and Monique Esperanza (now "Vasquez") was a socialite as well as one of Marco's backup singers. On the side, she also had her own business in jewelry-making.

Alicia sat quietly watching the mingling partygoers in the distance as before, pretending to act normally while sitting next to a celebrity. But she wondered what I would think about it, sitting just inches away from someone the two of us used to emulate in fashion back in high school. Marco and Monique were considered one of Spain's young power couples, and although Alicia had met them both at the wedding, she still felt greatly out-of-place in their presence.

The silence was quickly becoming blaringly awkward, and Alicia combed her brain for something to say.

_"Um…nice bag? Ugh, no. She probably designed it herself. Hmm. I saw your picture on a magazine on the flight over? No, Alicia! That's stupid. Just be normal…but just what exactly _is_ normal for people so famous?"_

Monique turned with a friendly smile, which Alicia returned accordingly.

"Those bracelets are really cute," Monique was pointing at Alicia's wrists. "Is that woven plastic?"

Alicia blinked stupidly.

"Oh…um, yes, it is," she spoke after clearing her throat. She was flattered by the compliment, but hoped Monique wasn't preparing to ask where she had bought the items (surely the fanciest jewelry boutique in Gotham was of no importance to _Monique Vasquez_).

But Monique only nodded with a genuine smile.

Feeling bolder than before, Alicia cleared her throat again. "I remember yours from your retro line from a few years ago," she chewed her lip. "My sister and I used to love them."

Monique smiled again.

"Wow, thank you," she rubbed the back of her neck. "I didn't really get around to much advertising in the US with that line, but I'm glad you liked them. I wasn't really sure if they could be a hit overseas. Maybe I should try again?" Monique chuckled.

Alicia laughed lightly.

Another pause in conversation arrived, but it didn't linger as long as the others.

"So…do you like Barcelona?"

Alicia nodded at Monique's inquiry.

"Enough to stay. Gotham is nothing like this - well, some of it is…but only toward the beach. Enrique and I live in a loft in the city."

Monique nodded knowingly. "I miss the city life. I used to live in New York before Marco and I got married. I guess everything changes once you marry a Vasquez guy," she laughed a little.

"That it does," Alicia agreed.

"I can still remember when life was quieter, when I was trying to figure out what to do with my passions and ideas," Monique was reminiscing, gazing out at the beach beyond the swimming pool. "But even though it can feel crazy sometimes with life being so public, it's still worth it, knowing Marco and my new family."

"You didn't have to pick up another language, though," Alicia noted with a smile.

Monique laughed. "True," she admitted, then gave Alicia a reassuring smile. "But I know you'll find it all to be worth it too, Alicia."

Alicia nodded appreciatively.

"So how are those online classes going?" inquired Monique.

"You've read the interviews, huh?" Alicia asked, and Monique nodded with a guilty smile.

"They're okay. It's a little harder than being in a classroom with real interaction, but I guess I'm getting used to it."

"Yeah, when Marco's traveling, I have to make sure everything can be mobile right along with us. But it's nice to visit parts of the world I'd never see staying in one place. It gives me inspiration."

Alicia twisted her wedding ring on her finger.

"I guess it gives you a better platform, too…"

"Yeah, I get to do speaking engagements and workshops, especially for young girls," she paused. "Not many people know this about me, but I used to struggle with eating disorders. So since I have more people watching me now, I can reach out and share what I went through to help others."

Alicia nodded slowly, realizing how Monique shared her experiences and engagements as though they were unknown, not ostentatiously assuming everyone was a fan of her or had read up on her. It made talking with her much easier all of a sudden, and even relating to her.

As they sat conversing about fashion and movies, embracing their common grounds, Alicia's thoughts subconsciously revolved around her own past addiction struggles. Maybe there was something _she_ could do with her own newfound platform, just as Monique had.

* * *

I groaned as I stepped out of the shower and into my towel. My body was gripped with soreness, and even the scorching hot water I had bathed in had done little to jolt my mind awake. I hadn't attempted to recall the previous night's mission. But I did remember my cowl being different; Dad had given me a new one, a full-face cowl.

I smirked a little while squeezing the water from my hair into the sink. It was all just another attempt to conform me.

I stared up into the mirror, seeing the darkness in my eyes, the blankness on my face. I looked the same, but somehow different. It was strange to watch myself transform more each day, helplessly following the tide. I traced a fresh cut along my neck, wondering what fight had induced this particular wound.

The other angels said I was different when I put the cowl on, that I was bolder, dangerous. And I believed them. I rarely could remember much about my missions after removing the suit, although I had somehow managed to retain almost every flash of action from my fight with Batman in the theater. It was as vibrant and chilling as though it had happened just yesterday. But I knew it was really two weeks in the past.

I finished drying my hair and changed into a casual t-shirt and jeans, glad to feel the lack of pain in my hand, which was steadily healing from the cut sustained from the mirror in the theater.

I was off to a father-daughter breakfast with my dad; he wanted to "surprise" me with something.

* * *

**_"_**Let me get this straight. You're wanting me to go on a mission…by _myself_?"

"That's right, India. We need an agent to help with an international case. And you've been working so hard here lately- I figured you needed a break from the intensity, as well as an early birthday gift of sorts. What do you say?"

I blinked in bewilderment at my father sitting across from me at the long dining table. He wiped his mouth casually with his napkin, eyes never meeting mine as he sawed at his poached eggs with a fork and knife.

"I…sure. Okay," I found myself accepting it, then shrugged as I reached for my orange juice after a servant entered to refill my glass. "Where to? New York?" I joked dryly, thinking my overprotective dad's idea of "international" would somehow manage to be only a city away.

But Dad shook his head. "No, Venezuela…actually."

I swallowed my drink with a slight gasp. "W-wha--?"

Dad finally looked up at me. "Is that okay?" he frowned.

I tugged at my necklace chain, fingering the arrowhead. "Um…yeah, of course. I mean, I just… Venezuela? Are you sure you don't--"

"India," Dad was smiling now, "you've been practically begging me for a mission of your own, not to mention a vacation."

"I know, I know," I shrugged. "I just… I didn't think you'd trust me enough yet for this…"

Dad watched me for a moment, then smiled again, very slightly. "Yes…well. Think of it as a gift from me. I know I haven't exactly been the best at giving those."

I couldn't prevent my eyes from rolling. He was being weird and playing the guilt card again, as he usually did whenever he felt the need to fulfill his fatherly duties.

"Whatever, Dad. When am I leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning."

I sighed, then finished my stack of pancakes.

"Well, off I go, then," I touched my necklace again, remembering that I was sitting before the man who had returned the cherished necklace to me, after all. "And thanks…Dad," I added softly.

Dad looked back up at me, but my eyes were on my plate. I didn't see the odd worry in his gaze.

"You're welcome, India."

* * *

**The next chapter shouldn't take me as long to post as this one did! Sorry for the wait, by the way. I had some plotting issues. But they're resolved now. More soon!**


	14. Chapter 13

**DesertedMirage Says: **Thanks, **dispatcher652**.

I told you guys this chapter would come soon! :)

* * *

The mission in Venezuela was uneventful, much to my disappointment. I had lunch with a few clients, representing my father and inquiring if they would like to do business with the GAA. They showed an interest and I managed to secure the deal, but it was far from the action-packed, undercover assignments I was so used to back at the headquarters.

I sighed while closing the door of my hotel room. Leave it to me to request a more "authentic" stay in a small, air-conditioning-less adobe inn. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I toted my luggage along, down the steps to the lobby to check out.

* * *

"Looks like your one search of her room to burn those sketches weren't enough, Chris."

My dad looked up from his desk with a frown. "What is it now, Zeke?" he asked with dry reluctance.

Zeke smirked as he walked inside, approaching the desk. He dropped a heavy book onto the surface before my father, a diary.

My dad frowned at the book, then up at Zeke.

"Well, aren't you curious to see what she's been journaling about?" Zeke lifted an eyebrow. "Or, should I say, _whom_," he muttered with a laugh.

My dad exhaled heavily, not amused, then reached for the book. He opened it, flipping through the pages quickly, then slowing his pace as his eyes scanned the words. The more he read, his jaw steadily became more taught.

Finally, he shut it roughly, and tossed it back onto the desk. It slid to Zeke, who was standing with an entertained smile on his face.

My father rose and strolled to the window facing the lake. He stood erect, hands clasped behind his back. "Well?" he spoke after a lengthy moment. "What do you want me to do? I can't take everything away from her, Zeke. And it's only been two years."

Zeke shrugged, tapping a finger on the leather book. "I think it's quite obvious, Chris. Sometimes you surprise me with your seeming unawareness."

"If she wants to express herself, she can do so," my father replied calmly, though he failed to sound completely confident. "Just as long as it doesn't interfere with--"

"How could it _not _interfere, Christopher. Either you change her or you don't," Zeke interrupted tersely. "And I think you know what must be done with the diary, just as you did with those drawings of the boy," he laughed with dry sarcasm. "It's funny how much softness remains in you, given that you yourself once had to be changed, and especially after all of the torment you've put her through," Zeke let out a snicker. "Still trying to win a 'Father of the Year' trophy when the contest is over."

My father turned on Zeke, and his voice was quietly hot-tempered when he spoke again.

"I'll make my decision on my own, Zeke. Now get out."

Zeke's dark eyes narrowed to slits, and he lifted his chin. He turned on his heel and exited the office.

My father faced the window again. He tried to erase Zeke's challenge from his thoughts, but he himself was beginning to wonder.

Breathing a tired sigh, he turned and walked slowly back to his desk, trying to ignore the diary, which was still there. But it was like a blaring light in the dim office, as if bearing a red mark on its cover.

As much as he tried to clear his thoughts, one particular paragraph from the diary hung in his mind:

"_Sometimes I wish I was born to someone else, just so that I didn't have to have a father like mine. He's either brainwashed, insane, or hates me to no end. He said he did all of this for my "good," but I don't believe him. It's hard to believe someone who walked away when I needed him the most, no matter what he says about "needing to protect me." I don't care if I'm slowly losing my mind, I can still distinguish between love and hate, and I'm almost convinced that he's the only one here with all of his sanity intact, which means that he does, in fact, hate me--of his own accord._

_It hurts to want him to love me, while knowing that he won't."_

My father sat in his chair, hands folded over his stomach, staring fixedly at the diary. Finally, he picked it up, and tucked it away deep inside his desk, where neither he nor I could ever read the painful words again.

* * *

The old-fashioned paper form stared up at me as I stood in the hotel lobby. I was finishing a survey detailing my stay in Coro, Venezuela - a requirement for checkout.

I picked up the pen and began to write my name: "In…" I didn't write the rest of the letters which spelled it. Another name hung inaccessible in the shadows of my mind. I moved on to the next field, selecting my gender - something less personal. I would come back to my name later.

They told me it could all be over if I had a push. A shove of my shaky mentality over the edge. A reaching of my breaking point. But sometimes I wondered if it really was that extreme. Whoever said that I couldn't just make a run for it? I was still human, with flesh and blood…with a heart, although it was torn. Many times I was tempted to flee, even if just to see what they would do. My boldness and personality change sometimes worked _against_ their original purpose.

When I was at the headquarters, with Axis or my friends, I felt like India. I felt every bit of my cynical new identity. I blended with their lack of regard. I fit in seamlessly with their dangerousness. But I was alone, today. In a foreign country, on a much coveted undercover mission of sorts. Dad must have trusted me enough by now, given that I hadn't shown any real signs of insurgency in years._  
_I had to concentrate to keep my hand steady as I wrote my fake address, while my memories grasped for my old one.

"Gotham City," whispered a voice in my head. "You live in Gotham City."

I kept writing, bending my torso over the desk.

I felt a presence by my side, although the modest lobby was empty. My luggage sat on the unfinished wood floor, leaning against my leg. Only one bag, since the trip was so short. Today I was supposed to leave by cab for the small plane which would fly me to the major airport, and ship me home.

"Home?" challenged the voice, almost chuckling at me.

My eyes struggled to focus on the paper, because someone was daring to speak in my ear.

I hesitated to write my made-up phone number. All of this had been memorized once upon a time, to use on undercover missions. But now I felt oddly…at fault. Stupid, even. It was strange to me that I hadn't felt this way more often. This _was_ my first mission by myself, away from the others…so distanced from their control. My arrowhead necklace fell back against my collar as I straightened. There was a moment when I shut my eyes, standing completely still, heart beating calmly. I set the pen down.

_"Come meet me…"_

The words were clear, enticing, real. But I was alone, wasn't I?

Maybe the room was swimming with warmth, maybe I was growing overheated. "Heat makes people do strange things," I remembered one of the cab drivers telling me when I arrived a few days back. He must have been right, because I was gripping my bag and walking out the narrow wooden doorway, into the dusty sunshine. _  
_I squinted, quickly reaching for my sunglasses from my rucksack slung across my shoulder. The street was busy and loud. Markets dotted the area, the dry air burned in my nose. Stepping across the dirt sidewalk, I hailed a cab.

I asked my question slowly, carefully speaking the language I had to recover from my high school days.

"Donde se puede comprar un coche?"

_"Where can I buy a car?"_

I stepped out of the cab after paying the driver. The car dealership before me was nothing like the ones back in Gotham. Barely twenty cars sat on the lot, old ones, the kinds you'd find in an epic movie set in the western desert. Buying the car from the low-key establishment was simple, although I was sure the salesman had overcharged me.

I sighed at the wheel of the dirty, olive-colored Camaro. The car didn't matter much to me.

With my bag in the worn leather passenger seat, I sped across the empty highways of the Médanos de Coro desert, with all of its brown sand dunes, the sun forever chasing me to the horizon. I shut my phone off when it rang. I didn't bother to try the radio. I needed silence, just myself and the voice. I glanced at the watch on my wrist. I was now a good two hours late for my scheduled landing at Gotham Airport, where Axis was to pick me up.

I steered the car with one hand, envisioning his confused face.

I ran a hand through my hair, whipping in the wind from the open windows. Suddenly, I didn't care that he wouldn't find me there.

My eyes were focused mindlessly on the never-ending road ahead, but soon I began to move them as though searching for something. Yet all the while, I still felt as though in a trance. It was the same feeling I had during my many lucid dreams at night, where I would go back in time, to the rooftops in Gotham, dressed as Batgirl, flying alongside Batman.

My foot pressed the accelerator automatically, every inch of my body feeling as though pulled, drawn closer forward. I didn't stop, I didn't question. All I had was one objective in mind, and the voice in my heart.

Slowly, I removed a hand from the wheel to clutch the arrowhead around my neck. My throat was parched with thirst. I hadn't brought any water, but I didn't care.

I was out of gas after another hour of constant driving. The car groaned and creaked before I pulled it to the side of the dirt road. The expansive plane of desert stretched for miles around me, the relentless sun hanging high in the sky and bearing heavily down onto my skin. I calmly exited the car, walked to the passenger side and withdrew my suitcase. My wallet was inside, my ID.

I set the suitcase onto the ground and sat on my knees to open the front compartment. Grasping my wallet, I quickly opened it, but I didn't touch my ID. I scooped a finger into a hidden compartment and pulled out a small sketch on a fraying scrap of paper. It was the only drawing of him they hadn't found and burned, the only remaining image of his face in my possession. It had faded significantly, but it was all I had. Gripping a corner of the paper between my lips, I used both hands to remove a cigarette lighter from another compartment of the wallet, then stuffed the wallet back into the suitcase. I stood up and removed the paper holding his image from my mouth, hiding it safely away into my rear pocket. I pulled up my suitcase and swung it back onto the passenger seat, my face void of emotion.

With the cigarette lighter in one hand, I walked around to the back of the car. I opened the trunk and grabbed the container of gasoline I had purchased with the last of my money after obtaining the car. I walked past the tank, not opening the door to refuel. I lifted the heavy jug, pouring the odorous liquid over the entire car. I dosed the rear, the roof, the windows, the hood. I drizzled it over the seats, the steering wheel, and especially my suitcase. Securing my knapsack on my shoulder, I stepped back a few feet, flicked the lighter on, then tossed it at the vehicle.

I walked casually away as the car erupted in flames, along with my luggage, my ID, everything about me that was "India" and not my former self.

I trekked the uneven ocean of sand, with only a brown tank on my back, jeans, leather boots and my knapsack. I kept my eyes down, my feet quickly growing sore and body gripped with exhaustion. Soon I was stumbling along, unaccustomed to the heat and not having eaten all day.

_"You're almost here now, keep walking…"_

After traveling for hours, when the sun was settled on the horizon, I looked up. I blinked to clear my vision, then paused in my steps.

Just as I expected, he stood there, jet black hair moving in the breeze, clear-blue eyes smiling in welcome. He must have been farther in the distance than he appeared, for his outline was blurred by the writhing heat waves.

My dry mouth hung open, I felt nailed to the ground. But slowly, I smiled in return, my thoughts never questioning how he was standing before me.

I ran, my blistered feet kicking through the sweltering sand. I had only been moving a few seconds before I realized that he wasn't drawing any nearer. I didn't stop, though. I couldn't let him get away, no matter what the agency thought, no matter what my father would do, nothing mattered. All I knew was that _he was there_.

I raced madly, my breath catching in my chest, the clouded air weaving through my hair. I tripped and collapsed into the sizzling sand, but pulled myself back to my feet, eyes never leaving his form. His arms were stretching out to me, as if to draw me closer.

But now an engine was rumbling behind me. I tried to ignore it, hoping it would disappear. But soon the one engine became two, then a muddle of growling.

_No, it can't be them! It can't be!_

My stomach was suddenly engulfed with terror. I didn't want to be ripped away from him again, I couldn't let it happen._  
_I fell again, but this time getting up wasn't quite as easy. My body was giving out, growing paralyzed with exhaustion and heat-stroke. My muscles grew lax, my arms quivered. I panted, hanging my head as I knelt with palms plunged into the sand.

The engines were right behind me.

_No… NO!_

I felt consumed with anger, rapidly flooding inside of me like a torrent. I whipped around to face them. Five cars, black sedans, the agency's. My father must have pulled out all of the stops when he'd learned that I was on the lam.

But I had destroyed the getaway car, reduced to ashes my luggage, my wallet, my ID. How had they found me?!

My heart was still warring with the walls of my chest. My resolve was so strengthened that I felt I could do anything. But my body was unable to follow. Instead I sat, waiting, although my insides quaked with rage.

Agents slowly exited the cars, wearing business suits, eyes concealed by shades. I spotted their tranquilizer guns and felt my muscles tense all the more.

One last agent piled out, removing his sunglasses and looking concerned.

Axis.

He approached slowly after speaking a message into the communicator on his collar.

My jaw clenched distrustfully as he walked toward me. He was moving cautiously, eyes down. I waited, chest heaving with resentment as my thoughts vied to concoct a plan.

And then, he arrived, standing just a few feet away. His aurora-like eyes lifted to meet mine. His gaze was gentle, and after a moment, he took two more steps forward, just close enough to touch me.

I stared right back at him, waiting for him to make his move - whatever it was he was going to do. Tranquilizer? A stun gun, perhaps?

I swallowed back the fiery lump of betrayal in my throat.

But Axis was extending his hand. "Come with me, India," he spoke tenderly.

I looked at his hand, my muscles relaxed very slightly. But I caught myself, quickly recognizing the brainwashing fighting to take place. I swallowed again, feeling torn in two. My eyes left him and moved to the ground, my hand dragged slowly behind me, through the sand. Very carefully, I gripped a cluster of it into my palm. With one swift motion, I had flung it into his face.

I was instantly tearing off into the other direction. It didn't take Axis long to recover and chase after me. My second wind had arrived, and I felt my legs growing stronger. I dropped onto my backside to slide carefully down a particularly sloped dune. Axis did the same behind me, resuming a sprint once we were on level ground. Another dune was blocking my view of the horizon, and I would have to claw my way up to see. The sand was uneven and crumbling like cake, and I came tumbling back to the valley on my first attempt.

I whirled on Axis before he could make a motion. Backing up a few steps, I watched him remove a stun gun from his belt. I was too enraged to see the reluctance on his face as he stepped forward. I ducked before he could utilize it. Axis grasped my arm. I jolted myself free, then leaped for the dune. I threw myself into the climb, mad with urgency to get out of the valley. My muscles burned with fatigue as I pulled myself up.

Finally, I arrived. I slid down the dune, tripping and plummeting head over heels to the bottom of the incline. Once I stopped, laying on my stomach, my eyes rolled up to the horizon, where he must have been waiting.

My eyes stung from the sand, I shook my head several times to see better. I searched for him in desperation, but the horizon was empty.

I rose to my feet, staggering slightly from dizziness.

"No…" I whispered, panting and holding my head. "No…no… You were here, you were here."

The disappointment was building up like a storm cloud inside of me, my heart pounding even faster with an agonizing fear, an emptiness, a disbelief.

Had he moved? Maybe he was just beyond the next dune, waiting for me. He had brought me all the way out here, he wouldn't leave me.

But the voice was gone in my head, I felt sick with loneliness.

"India," Axis spoke from behind me, but I barely heard him. I was charging forward again, my jog gradually picking up into a frantic dash.

"India, wait!"

Maybe if I ran fast enough, far enough, I would find him. I _had_ to find him. I gasped and coughed. My body was telling me to stop, and I did. I tripped when my muscles gave out, falling harshly into the sand. I was about to give another try, when someone stopped me. Axis held me firmly, keeping me from running again.

"He was there! He was there!" I shouted, uselessly struggling to break loose of his hold. But no matter how much I shouted, how hard I squinted to see, the horizon was bare. There was only the rolling sand and disappearing sun.

My eyes filled to the brim with tears as I realized I had only been chasing a mirage, and my head dropped to the ground. Axis' hold on me relaxed slightly as I wept.

"He was there," I whispered in defeat, tasting the bitter tears on my lips. "He was there…"

* * *

Terry frowned as he slowly lowered the necklace from his ear, setting it down onto the desk in his room. The heartbeat he'd heard at that moment was elevated, uneven. It concerned him.

He moved absentmindedly, trying to begin writing a paper for his Psychology class. He opened his laptop with a worried sigh, trying not to allow his mind to construct scenarios as to what was troubling me.

It felt as though every passing second was precious time lost, thus he was putting in more hours of research and investigating. He simply didn't know what I was dealing with, but couldn't risk dragging his feet if I was in danger.

Terry stared blankly at the pages of search results. None of this was working.

He grumbled and rubbed his forehead, his other hand squeezing into a fist on the desktop. Maybe the angels' hideaway simply couldn't be found… Maybe he was using the wrong approach.

He closed the search engine, then logged in to Uptown. He had received quite a few messages and friend requests since setting up the account a few weeks back. None of them seemed of any significance, though. They were only the usual messages of gratitude and praise, whether the person believed that his page was authentic, or they were merely joking around.

Bruce had merely sighed when he heard about the online profile, but he hadn't shot it down, either.

Terry scrolled through the pages of messages, hoping he would find one of interest. But finally, he logged off, and returned to the criminal database.

His fingers hovered above the keyboard, but his mind was blank. The computer had gotten him nowhere. His only _real_ breakthroughs had taken place in Gotham, in the city…

Terry scratched his jaw, then shut the laptop and grabbed his suit.


	15. Chapter 14

**DesertedMirage Says:** **dispatcher652, bubbles'cute, ohgodofwriting, **thank you!

And is it just me, or is anyone else being redirected to a random myspace music profile sometimes when you open the site? Hmm. It doesn't happen to me always, and it's a wonder I was able to login and get this chapter posted.

* * *

Batman did his usual patrolling in Gotham, but the city was oddly calm that night, so much that Bruce had turned in and let Terry out on his own, as he occasionally did as Terry grew more experienced.

Batman stealthily maneuvered his jet around the common criminal hotspots, Old Gotham in particular. After searching a few empty warehouses, he found himself only a block away from the ports along Gotham Lake. He returned to the sight of the warehouse explosion from two years back, no longer a crime scene but now a lonely vacant lot. He spotted a sign perched in the concrete, advertising an industrial office complex to be built there. The city's new mayor had been trying to revitalize the crime-infested warehouses of Old Gotham, in hopes of transforming the region into a blend of restaurants, office buildings and apartments. But the city lacked the funds to carry out the plan, and so far only a few buildings had been remodeled.

Batman walked the perimeter of the space where the building once stood, remembering all that had transpired that night, and all that had unfolded since then.

Batman stopped when he stood in the spot where I had thrown myself in front of him, accepting the bullet. The image was just as vivid in his mind as it was when he had first returned to the grounds.

He looked up at the moon, full and glowing in the cloudless sky.

"There's nothing left for you here, Batman. She's gone."

Batman turned at the sound. A deep, altered voice, not dissimilar to his own through the cowl's voice-disguiser.

"Show yourself," Batman returned, glancing coolly about him. He expected to see an angel appear at any moment, and he was soon confirmed.

Stepping forward from the shadow of the adjacent building, it was the one from the fight in the parking garage, the male. In the bright moonlight, Batman could distinguish the other suit clearly. The only difference, as with the female version, was the emblem on the chest: electric blue angel wings.

Batman's anger intensified as he readied his muscles for action. "Tell me what you've done with her."

The angel's shoulders raised in a shrug. He crossed his arms over his chest, then shook his head with the slightest smirk on his face.

"You haven't learned yet, have you? If we wanted to answer your questions, we would have done so by now."

"Don't test me," Batman growled, his fingers curling into fists. "You know I'm going to find her eventually."

The angel's mocking smile shifted into a solid glare.

"Move on with your life, Terry McGinnis."

"Gladly. That's why I'm looking for her," Batman returned smoothly.

"She never wanted you, why pretend she would after all of this time?" challenged the angel, walking casually forward.

Batman locked his steely gaze with the angel, struggling to keep his rage in check. What would it take to get information out of him?

"If she's happy and safe, then you'll leave things that way--that is, if you do, in fact, love her--"

"I don't believe you," Batman interrupted hotly, ignoring the insult. "Being imprisoned hardly sounds like happiness."

"Then obviously you never really knew her as well as you thought," the angel muttered.

In the blink of an eye, he pressed a hand to Batman's chest, emitting a high voltage of radiation from his suit. Anticipating the maneuver before it happened, Batman clutched the angel's wrist, fighting to use all of his training to withstand the pain. He had added radiation deflectors to the Batsuit after the incident in the parking garage, when Luna had used the method on him. With Bruce's reluctant assistance, Terry had tested the suit in the simulator with radiation cables attached to his body. At first, he could only handle thirty seconds of the torment, but had gradually built up to two minutes. While the suit reduced half of the effect of the heat, the other half had to be endured by the body.

Batman dropped to his knees as the angel held firm. Utilizing mind over matter was the only way to break free, as Terry had learned through training. Closing his eyes, feeling as though moving under tons of water, he lifted his other hand to the angel's arm. With a jerk and a kick into the angel's gut, he was free.

Batman didn't have long to recover, as the angel was lunging the next moment. They slid across the ground, battling to pin the other. Batman yelled as his arm was twisted behind his back, then rotated his torso to wrap a leg around the angel's knee, dislocating it. The angel released him with a shout and was forced to drop his guard. Batman neared for an attack, but the angel was on his feet, flying yards away.

The two panted, hatefully staring each other down. Then they collided, launching into a heated round of martial arts combat. Each punch and kick was performed with blazing speed. Both seemed to be fighting from more than mere opposing sides, but something deeper, a personal conviction.

Batman leapt and flung a kick. The angel stooped as the move just barely missed his head. Before Batman could return to the ground, the angel grasped his ankle and attempted to throw him. But Batman kicked with his other leg, sending the angel reeling into the brick wall of the adjacent building. He hit the surface hard enough to be stunned, and Batman sauntered over slowly, allowing his energy to replenish. He knew what he wanted to do before he arrived, and it all suddenly felt like an ethereal experience, as though he had lost all control of his body…as well as his anger.

As the angel leaned semi-unconscious against the wall, Batman halted before him. The angel began to slide to the ground, but Batman caught him…by the throat.

The angel's white eyes flew open in shock as he gasped for air.

"Either you tell me where she is…" Batman spoke in a menacing, low voice, then grasped just tighter enough to make the angel choke, "or I will kill you."

Batman waited. The angel didn't make any moves to answer.

Batman's blood boiled. He lifted his other hand in a fist. Though in the next moment, he no longer saw the enemy before him, but rather flashes of a gun pointed toward him, a rush of black and red against him, and my eyes slowly shutting as I lay bleeding in his arms.

Batman's narrowed eyes widened, his breathing returning to normal, his muscles relaxing as he realized what he was doing.

"Max…" he whispered, then released the angel, allowing him to fall to the ground.

Against his better judgment, Batman turned his back and began to stagger in a daze, away from the scene. He had only gone a few feet before a chord wound around his neck and pulled him to the concrete ground.

His final view before blacking out was the angel's masked face, and a solemn warning in his ear.

"I'm not going to kill you. But you can give up on finding her, because she can't be reached…not even by _you_, Batman."

* * *

Axis removed his suit from the closet in his office, running a thumb along the areas in need of repair. Batman had presented a match for him of which he wasn't accustomed to in Gotham. He hadn't had an opportunity to send the suit down for maintenance in the headquarters' lab, as he had been away on business trips for the past week since the fight with the dark knight.

He sighed moodily while draping the suit across his desk. He hadn't told my father yet about the exchange with Batman; the truth was, he wasn't exactly supposed to have been interacting with Batman unless under orders to do so. None of the angels were.

It was when Axis had been returning home from a mission in Gotham, when he had passed through Old Gotham. He soon spotted Batman there. He knew that he was searching for more clues as to my whereabouts, and it angered him.

Axis rubbed at the bruise on his neck, still sore from Batman's death-grip.

A knock came from the door. Axis lifted his suit and turned it over, so that the tear couldn't be seen.

"Come in."

The door opened, revealing Zeke.

"Didn't come at a bad time, did I?"

Axis shook his head, shifting through paperwork on his desk. "No sir. I just got in from the trip in New York."

"Ah yes. How did that go?"

"Fine. The recruiters have been trained and will report back in next Thursday. I briefed the boss on it earlier this morning."

Zeke nodded in satisfaction, then eyed the suit resting atop the desk. Axis continued to appear to be busy, but Zeke was sliding a hand under the uniform, holding it limply in his fingers. He turned it over, catching site of the tear along the abdomen.

Axis' eyes moved up, he set the papers down.

"Must have been quite a mission to snag _this_ material," Zeke chuckled unsuspectingly.

Axis cleared his throat. "Oh…that's from the simulator. Luna and I were doing preventative training in the case of another Batman encounter," he shrugged lightly, but tugged uneasily at his tie. "I guess it got a little heated."

Zeke nodded slowly, studying the suit once more before placing it back onto the desk. "Of course…" he played along, until he smiled to himself. "Unless you were battling with the real thing."

Axis didn't look at Zeke's expectant face. He sat down into his chair, quietly resuming his work.

Zeke laughed again. "Axis. There's no need to lie. I know you pride yourself on being a bit of the 'good guy' in the bunch here," Zeke calmly sat on the edge of the desk, then reached for a pen and began to toss it in his palm. "You work so hard to get on Gibson's good side, warming up to his daughter. But tell me, Axis, what do you expect to gain in the end?"

Axis shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He pretended to cough. "I'm afraid I don't understand, sir."

Zeke smiled briefly. "You want the girl, Axis. But it's not very easy to win her with someone else fighting the same battle, is it?"

Axis finally looked up with a frown, preparing to reply, but Zeke spoke first.

"No, it's not very easy, is it? I mean, here you are, a reasonably moral young man, who couldn't bring himself to kill Batman because he knows how much she's in love with McGinnis. Even though it doesn't exactly matter anymore, since she doesn't believe it's McGinnis behind that mask anyway."

Axis froze. Zeke knew what he had been doing in Old Gotham.

Zeke continued in the absence of Axis' response.

"But Axis, you must realize that you can't have her unless the boy is killed," he sighed, feigning concern. "And I know it's not your style, to murder, but you could always have someone else do the deed. You are, in fact, the highest ranking agent. You have a sea of agents and assassins at your command--including one whom I believe to be quite infatuated with you and would grant your every wish.

"Imagine it, Axis. Batman quietly done away with, you promoted to, perhaps, second-in-command--_my _job. And India-- finally, _completely_…all yours."

Axis stared at his desk, brow furrowed. He was troubled by his own jealousy, his own hunger. Wasn't Zeke right? Why _did_ he have to sit around and wait? Why _couldn't_ he just get what he'd been waiting so patiently for through all of these years?

He _could_ have done it, he could have killed him…right after Batman failed to do so himself. He could have returned the favor and actually followed through.

But what was it that had made Batman drop his hand? And what was it that had made Axis spare his enemy, the man I was _really_ in love with…

Axis sighed sadly, scraping his fingers through his curly hair.

"I won't do anything without first being instructed by my boss, sir," he answered firmly.

Zeke snickered at Axis' loyalty, then suddenly halted in his tossing of the pen. With pressure from his thumb, he snapped it in two. Zeke stood to his feet, silently pressing his palms on either side of the desk as he glared down at Axis.

"So you've forgotten I have power over you and everyone else here, Axis? You've forgotten who built this organization, who engineered the serum? You've forgotten that _I'm _the one who could bring it down if I ever so decided?"

Axis returned the glower bravely. But he failed to react before Zeke had withdrawn a syringe-gun from inside his suit.

* * *

I rolled over, failing to find comfort in my bed any longer. My eyes slowly opened, I stared into muted light from the twilight beyond my window. I had been resting, but must have crawled under the covers and fallen asleep. I tried to remember what day it was. I glanced at my desk near the dark window. I felt a twinge of pain in my chest. My diary, it was gone. I had found it missing about a week ago, not long after returning home from Venezuela.

I sat up, feeling the blood rushing to my head as I did so. It didn't sadden me as much as it used to, remembering that the diary was gone. I recalled my anger as I stood up and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I had known exactly who had taken my diary the moment I'd found it missing. And I hadn't spoken with my father since, even though the serum was making me forget how much he had hurt me.

Without the diary, everything about my past life was left to my weakened memories to cling to. And while some things remained, one person was swiftly vanishing. I'd thought of starting a new diary, but gave up before I wrote a sentence. I couldn't remember his name. I didn't know who to address the entry to. And my father would someday find it anyway, so I tore the page to shreds and determined to think up another way to remember him.

I removed my necklace, setting it down onto the bedside table. As much as I loved his necklace, it still wasn't quite enough. I didn't wear it all of the time, partly because I was afraid to. I was scared my father's mood changes would eventually result in him taking it away from me. Thus I wore it at night, mostly, as somewhat of a security blanket. It pained me that I could no longer remember exactly the significance of the necklace. But I did know that he had given it to me, the one I loved, and that he used to wear it. Sometimes I could picture him, almost faceless now, strolling down a hallway lined with lockers, maybe a school, smiling as he approached me, the arrowhead resting on his collar. I often tried to make up my own scenarios as to how I'd gotten a hold of it, why he had given me something of his to wear. I no longer recalled having one of my own, no longer recalling my heart-shaped pendant. And I couldn't remember that it was a heartbeat necklace, either.

I checked the scar on my midsection in the corner floor-length mirror. I did remember what _that_ represented. I had spared him Luna's bullet. He was Batman, and I was Batgirl. But the explosion had taken his life.

I sighed softly. The scar was growing less noticeable. I wanted it to stay visible. I wanted it to hurt, even. I needed a sting, a reminder that would never fade.

Opening my desk drawer, I pulled out a notebook and pen, then began to sketch the same logo I always doodled in my free-time. I had become quite an artist over time, and would draw anything from portraits of friends and family, to scenery and abstract depictions. I had given my dad a pencil sketch portrait of him for one of his birthdays, and Axis hadn't stopped asking when I was going to draw him someday.

But that night, I was tracing two points, then stroked the pen to bring them to meet, in a "V". After connecting the lines, I extended curves from the tips, sharply arching them to a point as I moved my hand downward. When I was done, I set the pen down and studied the logo. I tilted my head to the side, frowning as I examined the finished product. I touched the back of my neck, sliding my fingers down to the space between my shoulder blades. I picked up the pen once more, then shaded the interior of the logo. When I was done, I crumbled the paper, tore it to shreds, and tossed it into the trash can beneath the desk.

The agency would have destroyed it for me eventually, but I needed to practice drawing until I got the design just right.

After all, it _was_ going to be permanent.

* * *

I left my suite for my office, to finish the work I had abandoned in order to nap in my room. I hadn't read my mission briefings for the next week. The month ahead was already filling up with objectives (all of them local, in my case, at my father's paranoid insistence).

Axis' office was just across the hall from mine, and while I expected the door to be closed and a light on as usual at this time of day, I saw the door opening and someone exiting into the dark hallway. He closed it softly behind him, then glanced around him. From where I was standing yards away, I could see only his outline…until he glanced about him and caught site of me.

Zeke.

The dark eyes remained on me for a moment, his face cold and angered. A second later, he seemed to smirk at me, then he walked coolly away and disappeared around the corner.

I frowned as a chill rose on my skin, then resumed my pace. Instead of going to my office, I strode up to Axis' door. Usually Axis had soft music playing, but it was silent inside. I hesitated to knock. I had felt distant from him lately, ever since my runaway attempt. While the entire ordeal felt more and more like a dream as time passed, an awkwardness between Axis and I remained.

Sighing at my childishness, I knocked softly. A long moment passed before it was opened only a hair.

I stood in confusion, not knowing what to do. Finally, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Axis had walked away from the door, now standing with his back turned, facing the large monitor behind his desk. My cheeks colored in embarrassment at barging in on him; he must have been busy. I realized I had no sensible reason for coming, and he still hadn't asked why I was there.

I cleared my throat, looping my thumbs into my pockets. "I was just wondering if you had sent out the briefings for next week yet," I fibbed.

"Yesterday," Axis returned quickly. "I sent them yesterday. They should be in your inbox."

I nodded slowly, not accustomed to this short tone in his voice when addressing me.

_I guess I came at a bad time…_

"Oh, right. Okay," I chewed my lip, then turned to go. But when I touched the knob, I realized how much I was beginning to get the impression that something was wrong.

I turned to look at Axis again, still with his back to me.

It was hard for us to communicate sometimes. But usually _I_ was the one who was being cold, not Axis. I was worried for him, but I also didn't like it, the wall between us. He was the only one I could trust at the agency, and not feeling connected to him made me afraid and lonely…much like I used to feel whenever Batman and I weren't on the best of terms.

I swallowed, both surprised and ashamed at the way my eyes were moistening.

"Are you okay?" I tried to ask as business-like as I possibly could, but my emotions leaked out into every word, and Axis knew me well enough to catch it.

I watched his shoulders lift very slightly in a sigh.

"I'm fine, India," he answered softer this time, but he seemed to struggle with his own emotions when he did so.

I nodded again, then left for my office as a tear finally fell.

* * *

I didn't see much of Axis the next week, as both of us were occupied with independent missions. I tried to push the worry from my thoughts, the fear that I had somehow lost him. This feeling wasn't entirely new, as I had dealt with it many a time in my relationships, but it was especially painful combined with the solitude in the agency.

But it was one perfect afternoon that I sat watching the sunset from my usual spot on the lakeshore, when a motorboat approached from the distance, nearing from the portion of the lake that led to the Atlantic. I didn't pay any attention to it at first, until it was close enough that I could see the driver. He was grinning when he pulled the craft up to the shore, gesturing with one hand, the other on the wheel.

"I bet I could find you a better view of the sunset than this," Axis chuckled.

I smiled slowly from where I sat with ankles crossed in the sand, then lifted an eyebrow while leaning back onto my palms. "I know you don't expect me to get inside of that with you," I pointed at the boat. "You aren't exactly the most careful driver when on water. I saw you speeding out there."

Axis shrugged roguishly. "Who's watching?"

I rolled my eyes. He snickered before revving the engine and accelerating away from the shore.

I frowned as I stood up, not expecting him to actually leave. "Hey!"

Axis paused, turning to stand on the seat. He pressed his hands onto his sides and looked at me expectantly.

"Yes?" he had to yell since he was so far out into the water.

"I didn't say I didn't want to go!" I returned with a laugh.

Axis shifted his jaw, pretending to think things over, then he finally sighed as though heavily burdened, and brought the boat back up to the shore. He hopped down into the shallow water and waded over.

"Sorry about that," he said as he walked up to me.

"Yeah, whatever," I puffed a sigh. "Just make this quick because I'm set for a dinner date with some of the girls later."

Axis lifted his eyebrows. "Ah, so _that_ explains the semi-formal attire."

I glanced down at my black, sleeveless silk blouse and brown capris. Axis, on the other hand, was sporting cargo board shorts and a white t-shirt.

"Yes, that explains it," I nodded.

"So I guess I'll have to have you back in time for your date, and also carry you out to the boat so that you don't get wet."

I nodded once more, smiling. "Aww, that's so sweet of you."

Axis grinned modestly, then effortlessly picked me up I into his arms. We were halfway to the boat in the knee-deep water, when he suddenly tossed me in.

"You are suck a jerk!" I shouted after shrieking from the shock of the cold water.

But Axis was doubling over in laughter as I struggled to stand up in the squishy lakebed.

"Guess the girls are just gonna' have to do without you tonight," Axis laughed heartily, then reached out to help me up.

I ignored his hand, attempting to stand on my own. But I soon slipped and fell in again, this time going under as my hair was soaked. Once I surfaced, Axis was nearly weeping with laughter. I grinned slyly at him as he got a hold of himself and offered his hands once more. This time, I accepted his assistance.

"Sorry, India, I really shouldn't have--"

But I had pulled him in right along with me.

"Hey!" Axis was complaining as he flailed in the water, his curls glued to his scalp and over his eyes.

"You had it coming!" I crossed my arms as I stood and watched him.

Axis looked up at me with eyebrows raised, then kicked a wave of water over me. I squealed and tried to shield my face.

Once we were done behaving like two-year-olds, we climbed into the boat. I flung my sopping hair (intentionally) in his direction as I sat in the passenger seat, legs dangling over the edge of the craft.

"Hey, I said I was sorry!" Axis chuckled as he flinched from the water sent his into his direction.

"This had better be one heck of a view for all of this," I sighed, lacing my fingers behind my head.

Axis glanced at me with a mischievous smile as he started the engine.

"It will," he assured, then added in a mumble, "can't believe I tricked her into going out with me."

"You did not trick me into anything!" I snapped, but the boat suddenly launched forward as it neared top speed, both of our laughter riding along the wind.

* * *

**More coming soon! I promise I'm going somewhere with all of this and you will enjoy the few remaining chapters. :)**


	16. Chapter 15

**DesertedMirage Says: **I totally had something I wanted to say in this author's note, but alas, I can't remember it.

Thank you **Syn'ri (welcome to the story! I didn't get to welcome you for part one because it was the end of the story and I was out of author's notes, but I can now--thank you for reading the sequel and reviewing), dispatcher652, This is L (welcome and wow, thank you!), and ohgodofwriting.**

Just remembered what I was going to say! :)

Okay, so you know those Disney movies where it seems to take eons for the main couple to get together, and games like Zelda where it's like Link is jumping through all kinds of hoops and you slave through the temples and play just to see how it ends? Well...um, yeah...that's all I will say. :)

Never fear, my friends. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. Thank you for your interest!

* * *

"I still don't know what got into me that night… It was like I was someone else, but yet somehow…myself. It took everything in me to spare him, but once I fought back the anger, I couldn't believe what I'd almost done."

Bruce nodded knowingly, gripping his cane from where he sat across from Terry in the empty, expansive dining hall of Wayne Manor. The men were having dinner on one of Terry's off-nights, discussing light topics, but mainly focusing on my case. Terry was finally disclosing to Bruce the fight with the angel at the scene of the explosion in Old Gotham, after months of keeping details of the event from his mentor. The battle was almost a year ago, and it was now 2042, three years since we had been separated.

The angels hadn't shown themselves in Gotham since, and seemed to be altogether avoiding Batman, whether intentionally or not. But this didn't mean Terry's research had slacked any. The months of less hardcore Bat-action allowed him to devote more time to the leads he had received, especially the necklace. Bruce had begun a global positioning match search for the other necklace's whereabouts, but the system was still being perfected, and they were taking a chance by not being certain that it wasn't a trap. If my captors were using the necklace as bait, then Terry could easily be led into a snare.

Terry's restlessness was growing stronger. By not knowing where I was, he could only wait. Although this frustrated him, he was learning to master his worries, and the fact that he still heard my heartbeat comforted him.

An analysis had been completed on the serum, which confirmed it to be a mind-control formula, as well as an amnesia-inducing drug. This had alerted Terry that I might not perhaps remember Gotham…or him.

"I think you'll learn that being the Dark Knight can test your character. I'm not unfamiliar with that feeling of anger that can lead to loss of control - if you don't master it."

Terry nodded. "It helped me…when I thought of her," he ventured carefully, knowing Bruce wasn't exactly the sentimental type.

But Bruce was nodding in silent agreement.

"You're turning twenty-one soon, and graduating in a year. What are your plans?" Bruce asked.

Terry sliced through the steak on his plate on the long, oak table. "I haven't even thought that far ahead yet. I don't think I'll know for sure until she's back."

* * *

"_Happy twenty-first, India."_

I smiled at the message on my cell phone, the first thing I saw for the morning of my birthday. The melody of the incoming text had woken me up from where I had drifted to sleep talking to him on the phone all night. It was a few hours ahead in Germany, where he was away on a mission. But I enjoyed hearing his voice, since he wouldn't be able to be there with me on my special day.

I held the phone in one hand on the adjacent pillow in my large bed, typing a reply.

"_Thank you. You made sure you were first to give birthday wishes, didn't you?"_

Only a few seconds passed before the phone was alight with his response.

"_Of course. That honor is mine alone."_

I smiled once more, already tapping another message.

"_I wish you were here."_

He didn't reply, and I sighed as I rose to prepare myself for the day.

When I left my room and headed for my office to begin the workday, I was surprised to find a path of pink and red rose petals leading to my desk, which was bearing a velvet, rectangular box. I stepped forward and lifted the lid. Inside was an antique, bronze key, and beneath it, a folded handwritten note.

_"Your cruise awaits you, and be sure to keep that key handy. You never know what it may unlock…"_

Surely enough, a yacht was docked at the lakeshore outside my window. I knew exactly whose doing this was, and left my office with a smile on my face.

As I held the key in my hand, I stood on the deck of the luxurious ship. I was the only passenger, and the driver sped along the Atlantic for a few minutes, until it pulled up to the shore of another island, this one slightly smaller than my father's.

I stepped off of the boat, and was greeted by a horse-drawn carriage. On the seat lay another note.

_"When you arrive, unlock the door and see what's inside."_

As I rode along in the carriage, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the island. It had tall, mature trees and colorful explosions of exotic flowers in the foliage.

When the carriage made its way to the end of a long, tree-lined dirt road, a tropical villa sat before me. It was a breathtaking mansion with balconies and large, arched windows.

The driver assisted me out of the carriage, and I stood staring in awe at the island paradise.

Recalling the key in my hand, I walked forward and up the steps leading to the tall, wooden doors. Sliding the key into the lock, with a twist, it granted me entry. I pushed the door open and was met with a grandiose hall with marble floors and pillars lining the walls. A wide staircase cascaded from the upper story like a waterfall, and the entire place felt like a ballroom from a fairy tale. But on the floor at my feet was yet another rose-petal path.

Unable to believe the beauty enfolding me, I slowly followed the trail to a pedestal in the center of the room. The light from the surrounding windows landed purposefully onto the spot. A final note greeted me on the pedestal, weighted down by another box…this one in the shape of a square.

_"Welcome home."_

I set down the note with my mouth open in disbelief, then turned my attention to the box. With shaking hands, I opened it.

A stunning ring with a single rare pink diamond, large and shining brilliantly.

"Marry me, India," breathed a whisper in my ear.

I turned and grinned up into the expressive, aurora-eyes. He tilted his head to kiss me, and our eyes closed in the sweetest bliss. My arms wrapped around his neck, he held me tightly by the waist.

When I pulled away, he kissed my forehead, and I opened my eyes to look at him. The eyes were blue, clear like a sunny sky. The hair was straight and the darkest of black.

"Max," he said softly as he smiled at me, and I felt absolutely complete, safe, and exactly where I wanted to be.

It didn't confuse me that he stood there, and I knew that it was as though a mask had been peeled back to reveal who I had always seen and wanted all along…

I closed my eyes again, then opened them. My cheek was resting atop my arm on a wooden surface. I frowned in confusion as my eyes processed the view. He was gone, and I was alone. My window was in front of me, the sunlight streaming brightly. Yawning, I realized I had fallen asleep while in the middle of a drawing at my desk. I sat up and stared down at the page below me. Axis, I had finally started a drawing of him upon his request. I had promised to have it finished by that afternoon.

I dragged my hands through my hair and began to finish the portrait, but my thoughts were absent from my task, lingering instead on the dream.

Although I didn't have a diary in which to record it, it remained perfectly clear in my mind.

* * *

"What do you think?" I asked.

Axis grinned as he held the finished portrait in his hands, then chuckled.

"I love it! But what's with the overkill on stubble? I haven't gone _that_ long without a shave, have I?" Axis rubbed his jaw.

I rolled my eyes. "Hey, it was by memory," I defended myself with a laugh. "If you don't like it, you can always trash it--"

Axis snickered. "I'm just joking."

I smiled as I tucked my legs beneath me, sitting cross-legged beside him. "Good."

We both sat in silence for a moment, staring at the sunset over the Atlantic. Axis' "better view" of the sunset was a tiny island, a sand dune with a couple of trees and shrubbery, only a short swim away from the agency's island. He had first shown it to me a year ago, and we had spent time together there ever since. It wasn't very often that we had those opportunities though, because of our busy schedules. The GAA had been involved in a lot of international work in the past few months.

But now my twenty-first birthday was almost here, and though my heart wasn't completely in it, my father was planning an elaborate event to celebrate it. It had started out as a "surprise," but while he could keep an entire underground organization a secret, he wasn't the best at keeping a glamorous birthday event away from my knowledge. Either way, he had left the choices for food and decorations up to me, and the actual work in the hands of an expert planner. I had eventually decided on a masquerade theme, and the date and time had been set.

Axis yawned and stretched his arms after setting the drawing carefully to the side.

"You're really good at it, you know?"

"What?"

"Drawing."

I shrugged indifferently.

Axis chuckled. "C'mon, admit it."

"It wasn't always my thing," I confessed. "I never really thought I could do it. I guess it just started to come naturally with practice."

Axis nodded. "So how goes the birthday party planning?"

I sighed wearily. "Terribly. I really wish we could just move on quietly."

"And ignore your birthday?" Axis frowned as he looked at me.

I shrugged again, coiling a strand of hair behind my ear. "Yeah, why not? I don't really feel excited about it, so I don't know why I should force everyone else to."

Axis laughed gently. "India, I doubt you'd be 'forcing' anyone to be happy for you on your birthday--not me, at least," he assured faithfully.

I attempted a small smile, tracing in the sand with my finger.

"I don't think I ever really was able to get into my birthday much," I mused quietly, unable to recall enough about my previous life to be completely sure of my words. While I could still remember certain events and milestones with my family members and a few friends, I couldn't remember any of my birthdays…and I didn't know why.

I rubbed my arms for warmth when a breeze swept by. "I think when I was younger, I just got so used to being disappointed in life that I found comfort in misery, in downplaying the good things…happy things," my voice faded as the waves gently rolled over the shore. "Even now that I'm older, it's still hard for me to hope and dream."

Axis adjusted his position so that he was seated in front of me, pretzel-style. He looked at me with a hopeful smile.

"Even if I offered to be your escort and dance partner, it'd still be a miserable party for you?"

I couldn't help but grin at his compassion. I found myself laughing a little.

Axis reached for his rucksack, pulling it over and withdrawing a pad and pencil.

I lifted an eyebrow. "What's that?"

He began to doodle a horribly-executed tree. "I want to be like you when I grow up," he glanced up at me with a playful smile.

I laughed. "Axis, please don't tell me that's supposed to be a tree."

"Then show me how to draw one, then," he challenged, and I sighed, recognizing his trickery.

"I may be able to draw, but I can't teach--"

"C'mon, I bet you can."

"Axis."

"Please?"

With another sigh, I finally gave in and took the pencil.

"Just watch what I do and try to follow. But everybody has a different style, so don't feel like you have to do it the exact same way--"

"I know, I know," Axis rolled his eyes at my meticulous lecture.

I sketched a tree on an island on one half of the page, drawing the island we sat on, from the perspective of the shore. When I was finished, I turned the page back to him, right-side-up. I extended the pencil, but he looked unsure of himself.

I laughed. "C'mon, your turn."

Axis grumbled, then took the pencil and tried to draw his own island. "No clue as to how it can look nearly as good as yours, but okay…"

I ignored his negative muttering and watched him draw.

Axis laughed at himself when he made a mistake, but I smiled.

"No, you're doing fine. Just shade a little more over here--" I took the pencil again and shifted to sit closer to him, next to him.

Axis peered over my shoulder as I added shading to his drawing of the island. He was watching in silence, and I looked up at him when I was done.

"There. Sometimes all you need is the right shading to make it look realistic," I explained, but Axis was no longer focused on the picture.

"You still make it look better than I ever could," he insisted softly, looking me in the eyes, smiling distantly, sadly.

I didn't know what to say or do next. He looked like him, more and more each moment, in everything he said, every mannerism…and in my dream, when my subconscious was allowed to take full reign of my senses and bring to total recollection my forgotten memories. This was why it would never be fair to Axis; I wasn't seeing _Axis_ anymore, and I never really had. It was always someone else: the one nearly forgotten yet in control of my heart's devotion. My dream had proved that much.

I looked away from him with a swallow, feeling guilty. Axis may not have known about my dream, but he knew that he was in a battle for my heart, warring against someone else, even if that person was a ghost to me.

"I'm sorry," he apologized gently, but his voice was aching.

I set down the pencil, staring sorrowfully at the shifting waters. "You deserve a whole heart, Axis. Not one that's bound to someone else."

Axis touched a lock of my hair. "But I'd gladly take _anything_…when I'm this much in love."

* * *

My father had not only my magnificent party to give me as a birthday present, but also a vacation, a trip to the country of my choice...alone. I was surprised by his willingness to set me "free" into the world once again, but I knew that he must have had better monitoring in place than before, so that an escape was impossible.

But when I arrived at my hotel in Mumbai, India (a country I had been wanting to visit, for more reasons than one), I wasn't planning on buying a car and making a run for it as I had a year prior in Venezuela. No, this time I was going to be more obedient…well, for the most part.

I immediately began searching the internet with my laptop for a tattoo parlor. Once I'd found one, I set out in a taxi for the location. Inside the small, family-owned business, I showed a doodle from my pocket of the design, and told the artist in Hindi that I wanted it on my back. She didn't seem to recognize the logo, just as I'd suspected and hoped.

It had hurt more than I expected, but when I was done and back in my hotel room, I looked at the reflection of my back in the bathroom mirror with a smile. The bat emblem was now forever a part of me, and I had my permanent reminder of him, in my skin. The silhouette stretched from shoulder-blade to shoulder-blade, and the bottom of it reached just to where the narrowest part of my back began. I would cover it up with makeup when necessary back at the HQ.

When my gunshot scar was long-faded away, the tattoo would remain, and so would his memory.

Mission accomplished.

* * *

I stretched across the comfy bed onto my stomach later that night, after squeezing some sightseeing into the first day of my week in India (after all, I hadn't come for the tattoo alone).

I opened my laptop and checked my email. No new messages. I sighed and read a few blogs out of boredom, then when I grew tired of this, I went to a search engine. It was getting late, I was weary and finding all of my usual internet stops less amusing the longer I surfed the net. After making myself a cup of coffee, I changed into a tank and shorts and returned to the laptop. I checked my email again. Still empty.

I went to a search engine, then began to lookup hotspots in India. But I had seen all of this before, already having done the research before arriving. I was planning to go to the Taj Mahal the following day.

I glanced at the clock in the corner of the screen. 2:29 AM. I smirked at my night-owl tendencies. My fingers began to type random things into the search bar. After reading some reviews on a new movie about Catwoman, I typed in "Batgirl" out of curiosity. I had never searched my old alias since being in the agency. I tapped "Go" and was taken to a page filled with dozens of articles and movies. I clicked on one in particular, some random college student's blog detailing her theory on what had happened to Batgirl, who had disappeared from Gotham three years prior.

I read in amusement; she deduced that Batgirl and Batman had a major falling-out and that Batgirl was now posing as Catwoman or some other villain in Gotham--or perhaps another country.

"Not quite, but close," I found myself commenting aloud on her thesis.

With a sigh I moved along to a few fan-pages set up for Batgirl. Some were dedicated to Barbara Gordon's original Batgirl, and others for mine. I searched through my fan-pages, highly entertained by the fan-art and fan-fiction. Some of them were actually quite interesting, and some of the art was pretty accurate.

After an hour of this, and feeling a little bolder, I began searching for Batman fan-pages. It was the same for Batgirl, some for the original and some for the new one. I felt a slight pain as I realized that the new Batman had undoubtedly been ushered in seamlessly. Bruce had to take care of his legacy, after all, no matter what happened to the man behind the mask.

I spotted a handful of social networking profiles, people pretending to be Batman. I clicked on a few from Uptown, the most popular networking site. I found myself snickering at the corny pictures of an uber-buff guy in a black suit. I laughed at the oftentimes exaggerated details.

I scrolled down on the original search results page, then paused when I spotted an Uptown profile that stood out from the others. This one didn't boast a hand-drawn, comic-book sketch of someone who looked like a cheesy Batman ten years from now, but instead what looked an awful lot like a _real_ photograph of someone in the Batsuit…the Batman I remembered.

My brow lowered as I clicked it open in curiosity. I poured over the page, carefully reading the details in each section. While the others held a comic-book nerd sort of air, this one was more casual and mature, as though it really was Batman who had written it… The details were the most accurate I had found out of all the profiles. But I felt my heart pause when I read his blogs about missions. While he didn't dig deeply enough below the surface to give any names or locations away, his descriptions of what the suit felt like, what flying felt like--it was so…precise…so familiar. I found myself remembering more about my own experience as Batgirl by reading his commentary.

Next came the comments, at the bottom of the profile. There were hundreds of them, some of them telling actual stories of when they had been saved by Batman, others notes of thanks, and more still just joking around.

I massaged my forehead, knowing I was always vulnerable at such a late hour. I needed to go to bed and shut the laptop off. But I couldn't bring myself to leave the page. There was an idea in my mind, something absolutely insane, stupid and immature.

I closed my eyes, which burned from lack of sleep.

_If it's not really Batman, then it wouldn't hurt any to try… And if it _is_…_

I made up my mind and opened my eyes, not knowing what was possessing me to behave like this.

I clicked the "send message" button, then held my breath. As the next page loaded, I worried that the world was going to come to an end. But I was only prompted to create an Uptown account first before I could contact a member. I let out the breath, laughing at my own silly nerves.

I went to the main page of Uptown and set up an account. I typed my username as "The Lost One." I left all fields on personal info empty, using a fake email I created on the spot. Then I returned to his profile and, knowing I must have lost my mind, clicked the "send message" button once more.

The blank field appeared before me, and feeling much like I did when I'd bought that car, dosed it in gasoline and set it on fire, I mindlessly began to type. I didn't stop typing until I'd said all I wanted to say.

_"Batman,_

_What would you do if you were asked to take on a mission located outside of your usual playing grounds, outside of Gotham City? What if there was a 'damsel' in distress, somewhere else in the world? What if she had been snatched from the world she loved, taken into another universe and trapped by masked faces? What if she were unable to help you find her, and if even now she were moving against all hope to contact you? What if you had to do the impossible to locate her? What if this 'damsel' is a complete stranger to you? Would you stand up to her captors to find her? What if she had nothing for you in return when you found her? Would you still do it…would you rescue me?_

_~ The Lost One"_

I clicked "send" before I could muster any second thoughts. I sat staring at the screen in a daze, stunned by my actions.

I swallowed and sat in silence for a moment.

_What am I waiting for? This is crazy! Batman's not stupid enough to reply to this, and he's probably not even online…_

Feeling like an idiot, I allowed a few more minutes to pass while I went back to my random web surfing, then refreshed the Uptown page. My eyes widened.

Much to my surprise, there was a new message icon on the screen.

I gaped at my inbox. Surely enough, he had replied.

With a trembling hand, I opened the message. I couldn't believe what it read.

_"I'm game. But even Batman needs some kind of additional clues. Care to share…?"_

"This is unbelievable," I murmured as I read the message for the fifth time.

But I was typing my reply in mere seconds:

_"A birthday masquerade, the sixth month of the year, the twenty fifth day. Remember the code 'flying' at the door. You're smart enough to track my computer's IP address to the location…you're Batman, after all."_

I hastily tapped "send" after finishing typing, then immediately shut the laptop closed. I tried to convince myself that he was merely thinking I was joking and playing along, that he was just a perpetrator like all of the others…but I didn't succeed.

My heart was racing as I finally went to sleep.

I had just done something very stupid. I had invited Batman to my birthday party.


	17. Chapter 16

***Sorry for the double post of this for those getting email alerts! I accidentally posted before inserting the scene breaks, lol.**

**DesertedMirage Says: **I am so happy to post this chapter (as you can see in my rushing)! Thanks for those reviews, guys. I really appreciate you sharing your thoughts and I'm very grateful for you enjoying this story. Thank you so much to **ohgodofwriting, dispatcher652, RedSharkBait (hey there!), Syn'ri, This is L, bubbles'cute (hey there and thanks!).**

Okay, time to party, shall we?

Cue music!

* * *

"There's so much to be done! We've got to find you a suit, get you enrolled in some ballroom lessons and--"

"Ballroom lessons?!" Terry interrupted Chelsea's animated ramble from the other phone line. He winced at the thought.

Chelsea cleared her throat. "Um, yeah! You can't just show up at a masquerade ball and not know how to dance!"

"But I already know a little bit."

"When was the last time you _really_ danced, Terry?" Chelsea quizzed in a skeptical tone.

Terry shifted at the wheel of his car as he sped away from Wayne Manor. "Um…"

Chelsea chuckled in victory when he failed to supply an answer. "Exactly."

Only hours back, Terry was checking his Uptown account when he'd spotted a message from "The Lost One." He had barely been able to type his reply, his hands were trembling so much.

He wasn't able to ask many questions, as he didn't want to scare me off. So he'd left his reply vague, gently asking for more information.

"So where is it going to be again?" Chelsea asked, then added with a smile in her voice, "Wow, I still can't believe you've found her. This is incredible!"

Terry grinned broadly as he wove the car through the heavy traffic congesting downtown Gotham. His head was in the clouds, still feeling the disbelief mixed with excitement. He could barely drive at the imposed speed limit, and he wished he could somehow drive through time, to the masquerade only two weeks away.

He ruffled his hair as the wind from the open windows tossed it about.

"It's a private island, not far from the cliffs where I was investigating that helicopter crash."

"Oh really? Wow, I remember you telling me about that, too, Ter."

"Yeah. Hey, let me tell you more details about it at the mall or Flame Thrower or something," Terry chuckled. "I don't think the Old Man would want me spilling too much over the phone."

Chelsea giggled. "Aye aye, good call," she paused. "You do realize you've agreed to go shopping for your suit, don't you?"

Terry merely laughed.

* * *

I was only slightly calmer than I was earlier in the week when I alighted the steps from my private jet back onto American soil. I felt as though I had committed a crime, that it was only a matter of time before they learned of my contact with Batman. And I was terrified of being caught. It was the boldest thing I had done since arriving at the agency.

And what if they learned about my tattoo? What if I failed to keep it hidden? What if they exercised some sort of total memory-loss treatment on me so that I wouldn't rebel again?

Axis grinned at me from where he stood waiting, dressed in a white, button-down shirt and slacks.

I slid on my sunglasses when I reached him, to hide the way my eyes were tearing. I felt a lump in my throat, afraid of what it would be like to see only Axis and not the other face. This was what life would hold if they found out what I had done. Surely my father would put down his foot and destroy all of my memories. They had done it before with other rebellious angels, they could easily do it with me.

"Enjoy your trip?" Axis asked with a casual smile at me as he hugged me.

I leaned into him, lingering in the embrace as I suddenly felt the full weight of my fear. I needed Axis more than ever, even if I didn't always picture it as him.

I nodded. "Yes," I answered truthfully as I slid a hand into his as we made our walk to his waiting car. The red Mustang was his ride of choice for the day.

"I put the top down for you," Axis said while opening the passenger door for me.

Once I was seated and he was behind the wheel, we zoomed off. I felt his glance over at me on occasion, but I was staring fixedly at the road ahead.

"You look happy, India," he said, interrupting my muddled thoughts.

I slowly turned to look at him, sweeping a bang from my eyes. In all honestly, _he _was the one who looked happy.

"Do I?" I asked, then reversed the inquiry. "Are you?" I placed my hand atop his on the console.

Axis smiled his confirmation. "Only if you are."

I smiled in return, then looked away out my window.

Later, I unpacked with music blaring from the stereo in my room. I needed it to distract my nerves, to erase the voice in the back of my head. I hadn't checked my Uptown since that night in India and had determined to focus on planning for my upcoming party. I was going to enjoy it and I was going to be happy. I deserved to be happy for a change, even if I had to feign it until I actually felt it.

The weeks leading up to my birthday masquerade were filled with missions, although most of them were tame and local. Come the day of the event, I was finally free from any thoughts of Batman. With help from the serum, I had convinced myself that I had contacted a fake Batman, and that he wasn't going to show up.

* * *

I sat at my desk in my room, my jewelry box open before me. I was finishing my final preparations for the ball, which was located in the estate's grand ballroom. I could faintly hear the music from the party, just a floor below me. I felt butterflies fluttering inside my stomach when I thought of the couple hundred guests who were already down there, mingling, dancing and waiting for me to make my entrance.

The sun was nearly gone from the sky, and the lake horizon through my window was now a mellow glow of pink and orange. It was going to be a clear night, and the stars were already dazzling.

After dressing, applying my makeup and styling my hair, I covered my tattoo with smudge free makeup. It wasn't an easy task, and I had to use two mirrors and twist my arms in impossible directions. But my dress was open-backed, and this was the first time the area had been exposed since getting the tattoo weeks prior. My group of closest girlfriends had been just outside of the bathroom while I dealt with my tattoo, finishing their own makeup and waiting for me to emerge.

But now I was alone in my bedroom, trying to calm the jitters of being the guest of honor at such a high profile event.

I held up my arrowhead necklace to the light. I had just began to remove the pendant from its leather strand to place it onto a more formal silver chain, when I heard a knock from the front door to my apartment. I rose and went to answer it, suddenly wishing I hadn't sent my girls down to the party while I quickly finished up.

When I opened the door, my dad stood there, dressed in his old school tux and looking dapper.

"Are you excited?" he asked with a smile as I stepped aside to let him in.

"I am," I grinned before hugging him.

"Good," Dad replied, then held me away to look at me. "You look wonderful."

I chuckled appreciatively. "Thank you."

And I _felt_ as though I looked beautiful. My hair was pulled down into a ponytail and recently cut bangs swept diagonally across my forehead. Glitter glinted in my hair and on my skin, radiating a subtle glow in the light.

But it was the dress that made the ensemble. It was an import from Milan, based on a sketch of an idea I had sent to a dress designer my father had contacted. It was a strapless, floor-length gown with an open back. The skirt was a pencil-cut with a bit of a train flowing from the back. Two wings of a shimmery, sheer fabric fell from either side of my shoulder blades to the floor, and the entire dress was made of a water-like, sparkling purplish blue silk. The glimmers rippled along with my every movement, and I wore a simple Swarovski bangle on my wrist and diamond stud earrings. And of course, to finish the look off, I would wear a mask which covered my eyes.

"Well," Dad reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a gift-wrapped box. "I thought I would give you your birthday gift before your party - in the case that you'd like to add it to your outfit."

I smiled as I accepted it. "Oh, Dad you didn't have to do this."

Inside of the box was a gorgeous tear-drop pearl necklace.

"This is beautiful. Of course I'll wear it." I reached out to hug him again.

"I'm glad you like it," he smiled in appreciation.

"Hey don't forget to wear your mask, Dad," I scolded. "This _is_ a masquerade."

Dad chuckled as he showed the mask from his pocket.

"Sorry, I forgot," his eyes smiled jokingly. "I'll be downstairs. Are you alright coming by yourself or do you want me to wait for you?"

I shook my head with an assuring smile at him. "No, you go ahead. I'll be down soon."

Dad kissed my forehead. "Take your time."

* * *

"And now, the moment you've all been waiting for! Please give a big welcome to the Birthday Girl, India Gibson!"

I dutifully donned my smile as the curtains were pulled back and I was unveiled at the top of the grand staircase. I swallowed and swept my glance over the sea of masked guests on the ballroom floor.

Birthday _girl? I'm turning 21! I should have told the DJ not to say that. Ah well._

I kept smiling as the applause erupted and peppy, bass-laden dance music filled the air. Although I could recognize almost all of the guests below, fellow agents and angels, there was only one person I was looking for at that moment. And I needed to feel his hand over mine as soon as possible, lest I suffocate from the frantic thumping in my chest. I hated being the center of attention.

Blinking away from the bold spotlight trained onto me, I began my descent after adjusting my mask. All of the faces were fuzzy from the blazing lights, and I tried not to squint and look like an idiot.

_Curly hair, curly hair…_

Once I had almost reached where the steps ended, I noticed in horror the clump of tuxedos at the bottom of the staircase. Admirers wanting the first dance.

My smile twitched as I intentionally slowed my walk (I was also trying to keep from tripping on my dress and falling flat on my face). I scanned the crowd in desperation.

_Where_ _are you?!_

At long last, a warmth was felt on my hand mine sliding down the banister.

"Hello," Axis was grinning easily as he walked me to the bottom, holding my hand up. The others scattered and found partners to dance with, and Axis placed a kiss onto my hand. My nerves vanished.

The party had begun.

"Shall we?" proposed Axis as we walked boldly to the center of the dance floor. "I think we can tango to this song, don't you?"

I mirrored his grin as I turned to face him and we pulled together into a closed dance hold. "I suppose we could try."

Axis led the way into a basic tango walk, both of us having done the dance so much over the years that we were comfortable with dancing impromptu. The party song thudded as the DJ upped the volume.

_It's gettin' late  
__I'm makin' my way over to my favorite place  
__Gotta' get my body movin', shake the stress away  
__I wasn't lookin' for nobody when you looked my way  
__Possible candidate, yeah  
__Who knew  
__That you'd be up in here lookin' like you do  
__You're makin' staying over here impossible  
__Baby I must say your aura is incredible  
__If you don't have to go, don't_

"I think we have an audience now," I commented with a brief glance about the room.

Axis smiled lopsidedly. "Then I guess we'd better put on a good show."

_Do you know what you started?  
__I just came here to party  
__And now we're rockin' on the dance floor,  
__Actin' naughty  
__Your hand's around my waist  
__Just let the music play  
__We're hand in hand, chest to chest  
__And now we're face to face_

The DJ placed an effect on the song at that moment, halting it before the chorus. Axis and I matched the break impeccably as he twirled me into a dramatic dip. Everyone cheered as I rose up slowly and we burst into an intricate blur of leg flicks and spins.

_I wanna take you away  
__Let's escape into the music  
__DJ let it play  
__I just can't refuse it, like the way you do this  
__Keep on rockin' to it  
__Please don't stop the, please don't stop the music_

Axis stepped around me and paused his movement. I kicked a leg between his feet, then twisted my torso so that I stood stationary while he performed his own footwork. The onlookers continued to cheer, but it was as though we couldn't hear nor see them.

_I wanna take you away  
__Let's escape into the music  
__DJ let it play  
__I just can't refuse it, like the way you do this  
__Keep on rockin' to it  
__Please don't stop the, please don't stop the  
__Please don't stop the music_

Once we ended in a final dip, thundering applause exploded from the circle of guests around us.

We grinned at each other and took our bows, still catching our breath.

"Now how's _that_ for a first dance?" laughed the DJ in an overly suggestive tone as everyone chuckled in agreement. "Encore!"

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly at the encouragement from my friends in the audience.

Axis glanced at me, still holding my hand. "What do you say, India?"

I finally nodded with a flattered laugh, briefly removing my blue mask to wipe the sweat already beading on my nose. "Okay, but let's mix it up a little and make sure everyone else dances too."

"Hey, what'd she say, Axis?" prompted the DJ from his booth on a small platform near the staircase.

"Let's get some salsa going!" called Axis.

"You heard him, people! Time to salsa!" responded the DJ, and immediately a sassy salsa rhythm pumped through the hall. The dance floor was soon flooded with guests, spinning and stepping to the music.

"Sure am glad I'm wearing something I can dance in," I laughed to Axis as we grooved to the rhythm.

Axis smiled. "Not to mention something you look amazing in."

I realized then that I hadn't really admired Axis' attire. He wore a black mask over his eyes with an electric blue lining - the exact inverse of mine. His tuxedo was white, with black slacks and shoes. He looked very suave, and his hair was combed back and gelled down. I noticed that it made it look much darker than usual.

"You look great," I complimented honestly.

I spotted Axis' cheeks coloring before he spun me.

"Was that a _blush_ I spotted?" I was sure to inquire with a playful grin once we were facing one another again.

Axis chuckled as he smoothly placed my hand back onto his shoulder.

The music blended seamlessly at that moment, transitioning into another dance song. Our movements matched the style as Axis whirled me closer.

_I ain't worried doing me tonight  
A little sweat ain't never hurt nobody  
While you're standin' on the wall  
I'm the one tonight_

He draped an arm about my waist as I stood with my back to him. We popped our torsos to the snapping beat as the lights flickered and flashed from blue to red on the dance floor. The music escalated as Axis matched my steps and I strutted around to face him again.

_Baby all I want is to let it go  
Ain't no worries, no  
We can dance all night  
Get me bodied - that means come closer to me  
While we grind to the beat  
And your body touching my body_

I placed my hands into his and stared at the floor as we danced, completely overtaken by the energetic music.

_  
All I need is to let it be  
Ain't no worries, no  
Boy dance with me  
Feel my body  
Just come closer to me  
While we grind to the beat  
Your body touching my body  
_

The song began to fade as the strobing lights dimmed to a soft red glow. The other couples began to adjust with the mood change as a slow song arrived.

Axis smiled at me as we started to slow-dance. My throat was feeling dry suddenly, and I began to cough.

"Want me to get you a drink?" he asked thoughtfully.

I shook my head, but wasn't able to answer due to more coughing.

"I'll take that as a yes," Axis chuckled, and just in time, Murphy, a fellow angel, walked over to ask for a dance.

"Thanks Axis," I smiled at him as he strode off through the thick crowd for the refreshment tables.

"Feel any different being twenty-one?" asked Murphy conversationally. He was a tall blonde with a long face, and one of Axis' friends.

I laughed. "Um, yeah! Tired--from all of this dancing," I joked.

Murphy chuckled. "I need Axis to teach me some of those fancy steps for Jess and I," he referenced his love interest.

I nodded in encouragement. "You should ask him. Dancing can sometimes be a real deal-breaker for a girl."

Murphy frowned from behind his mask. "Really? Well I guess I'd better hope Jess has two left feet," he snickered.

When the singer held the final note of the song, someone else arrived to tap Murphy's shoulder. Being engrossed in a conversation about dancing, I didn't look directly at the person who arrived, but assumed it was Axis upon first thought. But when I glanced over, I didn't see a white tuxedo, but rather black.

Murphy shrugged as if to ask my permission to leave, and I gestured that it was okay. He moved away, and I was standing with the stranger, facing him. I noticed his outfit. While most of the other men were in tuxes, he was dressed a little differently, wearing a black vest over a satin, dark maroon dress shirt, the collar slightly unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was solid black and long enough to dangle over his forehead, almost touching his shoulders in the back. The jaw was defined and wide, in perfect proportion to the rest of his face, and lined with the slightest stubble. His mask was all black, but almost glowing in contrast were his _eyes_. They were the most heartbreakingly beautiful blue, so much that they were almost translucent…an icy blue that froze me on the spot.

But that was the last I could assess of his features, because all else from that point was like a journey into another universe.

* * *

**So I got happy with the music. It's a party, what can I say? I wanted to capture the mood for you. :) Song Credits: "Don't Stop the Music" by Rihanna, "Get Me Bodied" by Beyonce. More coming faster than you can say: "WHATTHECRAPISWITHTHISSTUPIDCLIFFHANGERINEEDTOSEEWHATHAPPENSNEXT!" :p**


	18. Chapter 17

**DesertedMirage Says: **Thanks for the reviews, **agurk (hi, and lol nice catch!), dispatcher652, This is L, bubbles'cute, RedSharkBait.**

* * *

He didn't speak, but held out his hands to me. Mindlessly, I stepped into him, placing my hand in his, resting another on his shoulder. He guided me expertly around the floor as a brokenhearted love song played.

_I am thinking of you, in my sleepless solitude tonight  
__If it's wrong to love you  
__Then my heart just won't let me be right  
__'Cause I've drowned in you and I won't pull through  
__Without you by my side_

Involuntarily, we moved in closer to one another. My muscles relaxed into him as I slid my arm completely around his neck. Our fingers interlaced. He held our clasped hands closer to his shoulder. Closing my eyes, I turned my face to rest my cheek against his collar, hearing the steady rhythm of his pulse.

_I'd give my all to have just one more night with you  
__I'd risk my life to feel your body next to mine  
__'Cause I can't go on, living in the memory of our song  
__I'd give my all for your love tonight_

We were dancing much too closely for strangers, and his familiarity and the sudden burst of comfort I felt in his arms was a mystery to me, but a very wonderful mystery…

_Baby can you feel me  
__Imagining I'm looking in your eyes  
__I can see you clearly, vividly emblazoned in my mind  
__And yet you're so far like a distant star  
__I'm wishing on tonight  
__I'd give my all to have just one more night with you  
__I'd risk my life to feel your body next to mine  
__'Cause I can't go on, living in the memory of our song  
__I'd give my all for your love tonight_

The music melted into a romantic guitar solo, and I hadn't noticed that we were even moving at all until I realized we had floated away from the crowd. We danced on the outskirts, distanced from the muted red lights.

The song was ending, much sooner than I could handle, and I knew that I needed to be alone with him. He looked so much like him…but it couldn't be…could it? I had never felt such intense excitement, terror and insecurity all at once. But I knew that I needed him. I hadn't felt anything like what I felt when dancing with him since before my life as a guardian angel.

Engulfed with that same feeling of rebellion that overtook me whenever I did something contrary to the serum, I whispered into his ear, "Come with me?"

The blue eyes gazed down tenderly into mine, and he nodded with the slightest smile in assurance. I almost crumbled when he did that. It was as though his every move, every breath, every heartbeat, was triggering some sort of memory in my mind. Every second in his presence was the most powerful déjà vu. And until I knew exactly who he was, he would forever hold me in the palm of his hand. I was locked under his spell, and even the serum flowing in my veins could not stifle these feelings.

We walked up an iron staircase to the upper balconies, overlooking the gardens and the lake. When we arrived, I released his hand and kept strolling forward, out onto the stone balcony, where the soft moonlight cast everything into an ethereal white-blue. I set my hands onto the iron railing, chewing madly away at my lip as I stared at the shining lake. I didn't know what to do. I was feeling so much all at once that my body trembled. I knew that he was there watching me, perhaps wondering what was wrong with me, but I couldn't turn around. Those eyes…they did too much to me. I wasn't able to bear it yet.

So I spoke over my shoulder instead.

"You must think I'm crazy," I said quietly, feeling breathless.

Surprisingly, I heard him chuckling after a pause, not in amusement, but it seemed to be a genuine response, an affectionate trait in his personality. But what could I know of his personality when I didn't even know with certainty who he was? Another memory resurfaced, only to dip back under into forgetfulness. It was the most frustrating déjà vu one could experience, the feeling of knowing you should remember something, when you're unable to fully do so. It was as though it was just within my reach, but I failed to grasp on.

"Hardly," he replied lightheartedly, yet honestly. His warm voice enticed a chill down my spine. I knew this voice.

I reached up unconsciously at my neck, but my fingers held a teardrop pendant instead of an arrowhead. I dropped my hand in disappointment.

"Um…I-I don't remember…" I tried to formulate a question to ask, but didn't succeed. Gathering a shaky breath, I made another attempt. "I-I don't think I've seen you before, you'll have to forgive me. What was your name?" I dared to inquire.

He didn't answer for a moment, and I thought he'd left.

"I think this can explain that. This is for you."

I forced myself to turn, intentionally finding things other than his face and eyes to look at. A small gift box was extended in his hand.

I stepped over to accept it, nervously clearing my throat. "Oh, thank you."

"Happy birthday," he said as I began to untie the red ribbon, his eyes watching me closely.

I was expecting his gift to be some sort of jewelry or another typical accessory, but instead I held in my hands a metal emblem…

A batarang.

It reflected the blue moonlight from the flawless silver surface. My finger traced the pointed ears and curved wings, my thoughts speeding into dozens of directions at once. I swallowed roughly when they reorganized and crashed into one conclusion.

I was trying to speak, but could only stare in astonishment at the object. I finally turned and set it aside onto the balcony railing, placing my hands over my mouth as I shut my eyes.

Not only had he come to my party, but it wasn't the Batman I'd been expecting, but rather the one I'd always been dreaming of… The one whose face I once drew daily, the one I saw in my dreams, the one I had nearly ended my life over when I'd heard that he was killed…

Could it be that this was the man I loved?

I didn't know that he was standing just behind me until I felt the whisper in my ear.

"Let me rescue you…"

My body warmed with sensation when he touched me, his hands making contact with my arms.

I closed my eyes as the fear multiplied…the fear that he was just a shadow, a character from one of my dreams, a mirage on a desert horizon…

If he disappeared this time, my heart wouldn't be able to withstand it.

"I'm afraid you're not real," I breathed in total honesty.

He gently turned me to face him, the unforgettable eyes burning into mine. "Then let me convince you."

And after he'd spoken the same words he'd said in a memory I could barely recover, we were dancing again, to the faint notes of a duet from the ballroom below.

_There are times I swear I know you're here  
__When I forget about my fears, feeling you in my tears  
__Watching over me  
__And my hope seeks what the future will bring  
__When you wrap me in your wings  
__And take me where you are  
__Where you and I will breathe together once again  
__We'll be dancing in the moonlight  
__Just like we used to do  
__And you'll be smiling back at me  
__Only then will I be free  
__When I can be where you are_

I folded both arms around his neck, and he held me securely to him as the singers continued in tender harmony.

_And I can see your face, your kiss I still can taste  
__Not a memory erased  
__Oh, I see your star shining down on me  
__And I'd do anything  
__If I could just be right there where you are  
__Where you and I will breathe together once again  
__We'll be dancing in the moonlight  
__Just like we used to do  
__And you'll be smiling back at me (and she'll be smiling back at me)  
__Only then will I be free, then I will be free  
__So take me where you are  
_

_Now baby there are times when selfishly  
__I'm wishing that you were here with me  
__So I can wipe the tears from your eyes and make you see  
__That every night while you are dreaming  
__I'm here to guide you from afar_

Our dancing gradually slowed to a stop as we gazed into each other's eyes, our faces close. I could barely remember how to speak, but I had to tell him.

_And any time I feel alone, I close my eyes  
__And dream of where you are_

"I shouldn't have asked you to come…but I didn't know it was you. But I can't lose you again--if I did…" my voice caught as I struggled to finish the sentence. "I just know that I can't breathe without you anymore…and I'm afraid I'll just wake up again and you'll be gone. But what must you think of me?" I dropped my head in shame as the tears had their way. "I don't even remember your name--"

_Where you and I will breathe together once again  
__We'll be dancing in the moonlight  
__Just like we used to do_

"You don't have to wake up," he swiftly interrupted, cupping my face in his hands and lifting it back up to his. "Because this time," his voice was lowering into an earnest whisper as our lips pulled magnetically closer, "…it's real…"

_And you'll be smiling back at me __(and she'll be smiling back at me)  
__Only then will I be free, then I will be free  
__Baby I still believe, oh I've got to believe  
__I will touch you that sweet day  
__That you take me there  
__Where you are  
__I still believe_

The very moment our lips touched, it was as though an electric shock had struck between us. We pulled back ever so slightly, then he leaned back into the kiss.

_I've got to believe  
__I'll always be waiting here_

My heart ceased beating as reality made its impact on the fantasy world of the agency, the serum, the island. An all-out attack had been unleashed onto the universe I'd known for three long years. Our eyes closed as our lips moved together, and suddenly it didn't matter that none of what was happening made any logical sense to me. He was here for this moment, and neither of us were willing to let the other get away.

"Promise me you won't leave me," I whispered as another tear escaped.

He pressed his lips to the tear on my cheek, then his mouth grazed mine. "I promise," he responded fervently.

I touched his face, feeling a lock of the black hair in my fingers. But what I saw was only what the mask allowed. Hesitantly, I began to lift it away. He made no motions to stop me, and he was smiling when it was gone.

I could barely breathe.

None of my attempts at drawing, no matter how skilled I had become, could ever contend to what I saw before me. Everything had been a flawed attempt to reconstruct the face of the one I loved. But seeing it, seeing the _real thing_, suddenly made all the agony of being away from him, all of the times my heart had been shattered and whipped, amount to absolutely nothing.

I wanted to look upon him forever, and would have been completely content in doing so with the rest of my eternity. I delicately touched his lips with my fingers, tracing his nose and brow, my hands held his cheeks, my fingers glided through his hair.

His eyes never left mine.

"I love you so much," I confessed in a hushed voice.

His eyes shone with tears before he slowly removed my mask.

We looked at each other, unmasked, and smiled sadly. He leaned down to kiss me once more.

But an announcement was made from the ballroom. It was time to cut the cake.

I felt him swallow, and he pulled away with much difficulty, both of our eyes still closed as our foreheads touched.

"You have birthday duties to attend to," he voiced with a smile in his tone, but I knew he was hurting.

"They mean nothing now," I replied softly before kissing the corner of his mouth.

He shook his head and opened his eyes. I stared up at him in yearning.

"I'll be here waiting," he vowed, lifting my hand from his shoulder and up to his lips. "I'm not going anywhere."

I felt my heart begin to panic as he handed me my mask. This was exactly how my dreams of him ended. No matter how real it felt, I had always woken up and faced reality.

Feeling like a terrified child, I had to use every drop of my courage to get a grip.

_I have to trust him. There's too much danger involved in staying here with him. If the agency finds out about him, I'll never see him alive again…_

I had to behave as though he was real. There was no way I could risk his safety. It was dangerous enough that he had come at all, but I needed to follow along with my captors' expectations…for now.

I let out a breath, then pulled on my mask, and replaced his. I stared into his eyes again, as if to draw from him the bravery to leave. Then I kissed him again, passionately, before I turned and reluctantly walked away.

* * *

Axis moved hastily through the crowd of guests. He was angry. Not just because he had returned to the dance floor only to find me gone, after being held up by an awkward conversation with a jealous Luna while ordering my drink. Not just because he had later spotted me in Terry McGinnis' arms on the balcony…

He was angry because he had approached my father with a made-up, important business call from France in his office, to distract my father and thus save Terry's life and my sanity. He hated himself for caring enough to have spared us this much. He was in love with me, and his heart was broken from what his eyes had seen.

Axis downed the rest of his champagne, watching me cut my cake. No one else knew why I was so dazed, so out-of-touch when I was supposed to be glowing at my own birthday party, but Axis did. And as much as he didn't want to spare Terry's life, he was walking up the steps leading to the balcony with a syringe-gun in hand.

* * *

I made my smiling and good spirits as believable as possible while cutting my humongous, five-tiered designer cake. I chatted as best I could with the dozens of people who decided they needed to wish me a personal happy birthday when I was done. But I was only going through the motions, and my brain wasn't in my head. My heart and mind were out there on that balcony with him, and the instinctive fear that he wouldn't be there when I arrived was multiplying.

* * *

Terry backed from the moonlit balcony to the dark corners of the empty upper walkways. He could hear every sound from below, and was keeping his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.

So far everything had gone seamlessly. He was grateful for the fact that it was a masquerade, and hoped that his mask would ward off any suspicious persons.

He gazed sadly at the floor while he waited for me. He felt wonderful from seeing me again, but he was silently angry for what had happened to me. I was brainwashed, wounded and scarred by an extent of torment he could only imagine. His fingers squeezed into fists as he tried to regain his composure. The bitter tears were warm on his cheeks, some of them still my own from when I cried with him.

Terry was also afraid. He would die for me, he would do anything to free me, and he would do so without a second thought. But he didn't fear the agency with all of its sophistication and intricate control. What scared him was that he might not be able to succeed. What if he slipped up? What if he ended up getting me hurt again? He sighed, pulling a hand through his hair. No, he had already predetermined to bargain with them if it came down to that. He would offer his life for mine in exchange. After all, they knew that he was Batman, that he was the agency's largest obstacle.

He had heard my father's name mentioned somewhere amongst the DJ's announcements, and it all made perfect sense to him now. Terry's heart ached for what I must have endured in being betrayed by my own father once again. He had watched me bear the way he had walked out on my family, but this new fault made Terry sick with fury.

This was what Bruce had meant by Batman needing to be stronger than his emotions, Terry realized as his gaze extened out at Gotham Lake.

"And to think all the while she was only a lake away from me…" he whispered as the wind from the open balcony doors sailed through his hair.

"Terry McGinnis."

Terry assumed his guard, turning at the voice from the staircase.

In the darkness, he stared at a white tuxedo, but the face was shadowed. That didn't matter, though, because he recognized the voice. Flashes of a party flared in his mind, a struggle in a kitchen, and me pulling the two apart before lying that I would never love him.

"Vinelli," Terry muttered, not surprised that Nick was involved with the Guardian Angel Agency. He guessed easily that Nick had been the angel he'd fought with in Old Gotham, the one he'd nearly killed.

"You'll have to leave now," spoke Axis calmly. "Or would you rather make matters worse for her?"

Terry's eyes narrowed evenly at his foe. "I'm not leaving without her with me."

"Dying for her without freeing her would be pointless, McGinnis," Axis was attempting to reason, his voice beginning to reveal frustration.

"I'm Batman. Killing me is something your agency has struggled to succeed in," Terry returned firmly, but kept his voice under control. "And you won't do so this time either."

Axis shrugged with a sigh. "You just don't learn anything from our encounters, do you?" his finger hovered over the trigger of the syringe gun behind his back. "Her safety isn't enough for you."

"I want her to be safe _and _happy," Terry asserted fiercely.

"She'll be happier once you're gone and she can forget about you," Axis clenched his teeth. "She no longer needs Batman, Terry. She needs a protector, and I've already filled that role."

Before Terry could make a move in defense, Axis had drawn the weapon and fired into Terry's neck. The dart quickly dispersed the toxin through his veins, and Terry collapsed to his knees against his will. His last view was of Axis' shoes moving toward him, and the sensation of being lifted off the ground.

* * *

I finally ended a conversation with the last person in my path to the stairway leading to the balcony. As I climbed the steps, I felt my body trembling again, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I almost didn't want to go at all, doubting my ability to handle the possibility of him not being there.

_He _promised_ you, India. You can do this. You can't let him down. Just go up there and run into his arms. Then we'll figure out how we can be together. He'll make everything okay. He'll sort it out. He always has._

I took the final steps, suddenly feeling much better from my pep-talk. I jogged the rest of the way, unable to wait any longer.

My eyes scanned the area for him. The walkway was empty. Still smiling in anticipation, I turned to the balcony. My smile widened. A dark-haired man in a black attire stood at the railing.

_You're still here!_

I rushed forward to the opens doors, but he turned to face me. I stopped dead in my tracks.

I gawked in confusion and surprise.

Axis…?

Before I could wonder what had happened or worry that Axis had found out who had crashed the ball, I spotted the gun in his hand…the droplets of blood on his white jacket he'd removed and draped over his arm.

My emotions were erased. I stood in shock, feeling empty and non-existent.

"India," he stepped toward me, placing his hands onto my shoulders. I stared blankly at him. I didn't understand him when he spoke.

"It's going to be alright now, I promise you it's going to be alright."

Then my heart was revived back to life. I blinked out of my bewildered trance.

"How could you…?" the demand began as a plea of disbelief, suddenly hoping I was dreaming. I hoped with everything in me that this wasn't real. It couldn't be real! "How could you?" I repeated, slightly louder this time.

Axis grabbed me as I tried to rush by to the balcony to search for Batman. I struggled against him only for a moment, until I felt a prick in my neck that rendered my muscles powerless. The earth began to fade as my vision became blackness.

_How could you?_

* * *

**Song Credits: "My All" by Mariah Carey, "Where You Are" by Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey.**


	19. Chapter 18

**DesertedMirage Says:** As always, I thank you for your feedback, **RedSharkBait, ohgodofwriting, bubbles'cute, This is L, dispatcher652**!

I must say the mixed feelings on Axis are very intriguing. Just to let you know, I have mixed feelings about my characters myself at times. Hehe.

Henceforth, expect intensity.

* * *

My heart was rapidly pounding when I awoke in my bed the next morning, and I couldn't figure out why. It was as though I had been shocked out of a bad dream, and even my hair clung to my damp forehead in a cold sweat.

I sat up slowly, trying to assess what had caused my nightmarish sleep. When I failed to arrive at a conclusion, I reached for my phone on the bedside table. June 26th. I looked down then, finally noting my attire. My dress?

My birthday returned in bits and pieces, and a moment later I rose out of bed. My eyes were burning from not removing my makeup. My once-styled hair was mangled, and the only thing missing from my ensemble from the night before was my mask and jewelry. I glanced back at my bedside table, and saw the jewelry. I remembered my father giving me a teardrop necklace.

_Must have been some party…_

But why couldn't I remember much of it? I could see Axis and I dancing, and as I brushed my teeth and showered, I recalled facing my sea of guests before descending the staircase.

_But something's missing…_

As I stepped into jeans and slid on my favorite brown tank, I felt as though someone had carved into my brain and removed some crucial memory. This was different from the usual forgetfulness from the serum. With the serum, I could _feel_ the vanishing memory in some way, whether it was in a dream, a flashback, or triggered by an object or moment, such as my arrowhead necklace.

I left my hair down after drying it, allowing my bangs to fall with the rest of my long hair. I stared into the mirror after applying my makeup for the day. I turned after a moment, looking over one shoulder at my back. I pulled down the strap of the tank so that I could see the tattoo.

_The last reminder._

Feeling weighted with a sadness I couldn't fully understand, I put on my arrowhead necklace and left for my office.

For some reason, today's forgetfulness didn't seem to have anything to do with the serum, but rather my own mind trying to protect me from remembering something dreadful.

* * *

I felt empty for the first couple hours of the morning. But I also felt…different. The mere fact that I was _feeling _so much, that I was able to dwell in my own realization that something was missing, was strange to me. The serum never allowed me to linger near my forgotten memories for long. I always slipped into obliviousness eventually. But it was almost as though a part of me was crying out against the serum's influence, as though my heart was warring to steal my attention.

I finally shut my laptop on the work I didn't really have to do on the Saturday morning.

I held my head in my hands, trying to sort through my thoughts. Maybe I needed to stop everything and truly dedicate my efforts toward remembering. But why was I so certain that I wasn't battling the _serum _to remember something? Why was I fully able to comprehend that I was in a fight against my _own mind_? Was the serum losing its power? And if so, what was the catalyst that was causing this sudden combat?

"India, may I see you for a moment? I have an important briefing to go over with you."

The voice sliced through my wandering thoughts.

"I'll be right there," I replied absently into the intercom on my desk, then got up to head for Zeke's office.

I bumped into Axis in the hallway, just leaving his office across from mine. Though he seemed to be trying to hide it, I noticed he might not have been feeling completely present himself. We smiled at one another awkwardly.

"Sorry," he said unnecessarily, holding my elbow to steady me.

"It's fine," I waved, wondering why we were acting so uncomfortably.

Axis looked as though he wanted to say something, and he hadn't exactly released me. I waited expectantly, staring up into his face.

"Um, I guess I'll see you at lunch?"

I blinked, then remembered.

"Oh, right. The birthday craziness my dad's planned."

My father knew not how to move on, and insisted my birthday event would entail more than a measly masquerade ball, but also a staff luncheon between himself, Zeke, Luna, Axis and I, as well as a fancy dinner that night. Yes, to my father, my birthday was an entire weekend, and I'm sure if he could, a national holiday.

Axis nodded with a brief smile, and we parted, going our separate ways down the hallway. I glanced over my shoulder at him disappearing around the corner. I reached up to touch my necklace, then knocked on the door of Zeke's office.

* * *

"It's open, come in."

I pushed on the door.

Zeke's office wasn't quite as large as my father's, and had a very minimalist style. Smooth lines, low furniture, everything black and white - except for the desk, which was a random, blaring red.

I hated being called into his office. Not only did the space remind me of something I would find in a movie villain's corridors, but Zeke had never failed to come across as sinister to me. While Luna still occasionally sent a chill down my spine, Zeke was in another realm of dangerous.

I hoped our meeting would be concise.

Zeke leaned on the edge of his desk, in a pin-striped black business suit with a blood-red tie. My missing memory cried out, fighting to resurface. I brushed away the feeling, trying to focus.

Zeke didn't seem to notice my entry, as his attention was on a small potted plant in his hands. He was trying to remove the dead leaves.

I cleared my throat. Zeke didn't budge.

"Do you know anything about African Violets, India?" he addressed me.

I shook my head. "Not really. I've never had much of a green thumb - I just end up killing my plants."

Zeke sighed, shrugged, and finally set the plant down on his desk. He reached behind him to a folder. He handed it to me with a casual smile.

I accepted the brief. Zeke motioned for me to have a seat. I chose the sofa farthest from his desk.

I tried not to mindlessly skim the pages as I read the details and objectives of my next mission. But Zeke was distracting me by pacing behind his desk, hands behind his back, the usual unreadable dark expression on his face.

_People whose expressions change so quickly and drastically scare me._

But what did I expect? I worked in the underworld. I myself was a villain now.

I finally finished the brief, and Zeke further explained some aspects of the mission. I was grateful when he concluded, and rose quickly to walk to the door.

"Oh, India, before I forget…"

I paused, my hand reaching for the doorknob. I turned.

Zeke was frowning down at a box in his hands. "I think one of your gifts got left behind at the party last night," he stepped forward and held it out to me. "I do believe this is yours."

I looked away from his piercing black eyes to his hand. The forgotten memory was raging now.

_What is wrong with me?_

Zeke waited calmly for me to take it. I swallowed and accepted the box.

"You might," Zeke swiftly inserted before I could turn to leave, "want to make sure everything's inside before you go."

I glanced at him, trying to conceal my confusion and suspicion, then opened the box.

If I wasn't so stunned by what I saw when I removed the lid, I would have immediately closed it and bolted out the door. I wouldn't have dared let my father's right-hand man see what I was holding. I would have ran and denied it, for the sake of the one who had given me the gift.

"I think," Zeke began slowly in the absence of my voice, "that I must say that it's a very good thing that _I_ was the one who found this, and not your father. You can imagine that he'd be livid if he knew who had come to your party last night. And I was wondering where you had disappeared to at your own special event," Zeke spoke as calmly as if he were having a two-sided conversation with me. "And while it's such a shame that he wasn't the Batman you were hoping for, it _was _the new Dark Knight, and, well, we had to deal with him accordingly." Zeke sighed with faux sympathy as he sauntered to his desk. He picked up his plant, studying it closely.

"Axis has done you a wonderful favor, you know, by doing away with Batman once and for all," he removed a dead leaf, then suddenly snapped a healthy green leaf. "But we all know life doesn't last forever, especially in this agency. I suppose it's like tending plants; they aren't always easy to care for, as you yourself noted. Oh, don't look so worried, India. My lips are sealed. Who did you think was keeping your internet history away from your father? Didn't you ever once find it strange that you hadn't been punished for contacting Batman in Mumbai?" Zeke half-smiled. "Well, I guess the only problem now is _yours_…living with the fact that you're the reason why both heroes are dead." His words stabbed like a mortal knife-wound into my heart.

The forgotten memory crashed through the surface. Batman had come to my party. I had invited him. I had done something foolish. I had allowed my hatred for the agency and my delusions of my murdered love to drive me to seek help, to be rescued. He had come, and I was certain it was the one I dreamed of, and not a replacement.

But I must have been losing my mind. Nothing was certain anymore. My memories couldn't be trusted. I could only accept what was told to me.

And I had killed another hero.

The image of blood on Axis' jacket flickered in my mind.

That realization, combined with the disappointment that I had dreamed up the identity of my Batman from the night before, made my heart bleed with anguish and guilt.

_What have I done?_

"India, this really has been difficult for you, hasn't it? But just think, you have no more reminders left. Both men behind the mask are dead, and now you can fully focus on your life here, with Axis. After all, isn't that what your father's been wanting for you all along?" Zeke spoke smoothly, but his tone wasn't genuine. Every word pierced with a poison.

"But don't worry, my lips are sealed."

* * *

I didn't touch my food at lunch. I only went to the luncheon out of numbness. There was nothing left for me. It wasn't him last night, it was just a delusion of my tortured mind. And whoever it had been was now dead. And his blood was on my hands.

I thought of Bruce as I sat lifeless at the table, hearing the voices of my father, Zeke and the others around me, but not understanding their words. I thought of the legacy I had ruined, suddenly remembering missions as Batgirl clearer than ever. Everything was meaningless now. I had brought it to ruins.

It was as though I was seventeen-years-old again, standing in the Batcave, staring after Batman as he left in an angry rush. I had foiled my first mission, I had gotten him hurt because I had jumped the gun while angering the Jokerz. Bruce spoke sympathetically in his ambiguous voice, but it didn't heal the wound. He was always forgiving of my naivete.

But now I was twenty-one, an adult, watching Batman leaving me, though he wasn't just hurt physically, but walking to his death.

_"_India, you've been quiet today. I had to take a call at the end of your party, but I heard you weren't feeling well and had to go lay down. Are you feeling better?"

It took a few seconds to process what my father was asking me.

"I don't know," I responded automatically, staring blankly at my plate.

There was a lull in the conversation, before my father sighed and resumed his discussion with Axis about sports.

Luna was bragging to Zeke about her latest assassination mission, and no one seemed to be paying attention to my silence.

I listened to them half-heartedly, still swimming through my thoughts, before I arrived at another conclusion.

_"Both men behind the mask are dead, and now you can fully focus on your life here, with Axis. After all, isn't that what your father's been wanting for you all along?"_

Here I was, in the clutches of guilt and sorrow, and what was my father doing? Absolutely nothing. Living as though I didn't exist. As though I didn't matter. How was he able to ignore all that he had put me through? How was he able to have a normal, light-hearted conversation when he could clearly see that I wasn't well? How could he put his own flesh and blood through hell, and with a smile on his face all the while?

I may have been the reason why two innocent heroes were dead, but my father was equally at fault, if not more so. If he had just stayed at home seven years ago, if he had just refused to allow his greed for power and independence to make him walk away from our family…

"I can't stay here anymore." I abruptly pushed away from the table, standing to my feet.

My dad frowned at my sudden decision to speak.

"What's wrong, India?"

I paused while on my way out of the dining hall. I smirked for a moment before whirling on him. "Nothing's wrong. Nothing's wrong at all, Dad. Nothing ever was wrong. Nothing ever _will_ be wrong. Why? Because you set the mood. You call the shots. If you want us to be sad, we're sad. If you want us to be happy, we're happy. If you want us to go out and kill, we go out and kill. Nothing's wrong at all in your perfect little universe you've created. There is no wrong and right. There's only what you want, and what you want is _always_ right," I glared at him. "Don't ask me what's wrong when there's no such thing."

"India--"

"And don't pretend you care about what I'm feeling!" I was shouting now.

My dad was on his feet. "_India_--"

"Oh, excuse me, I'm not supposed to leave, am I? How rude would that be?" I laughed darkly. "This _is _my birthday luncheon. This is a special occasion because you _made_ it special. I have to do my best to be happy because you _want_ me to be. I have to sit here and act like everything's perfect because you _want_ it to be. Just like everyone else, I have to follow the rules, don't I?" I didn't hesitate for him to answer. "But you know what? I'm done with what you want! I'm done with your stupid control! I'm not going to let you use me anymore! If I have to drain every drop of my blood filled with the stupid serum and kill myself, I'll do it!" I was pacing toward the French doors leading to the gardens and the lakeshore now, leaving the table in astonished silence.

"India, come back here!" my father called angrily.

I laughed in sardonic amusement. Why did it bother him that I had just threatened suicide if I meant nothing to him?

"I suppose having me gone wouldn't be terribly convenient for you, would it? Not that you'd be grieving the death of your daughter, but rather the loss of a handy agent. A mere liability. No, that wouldn't be very perfect, would it? And we know perfection is what you strive for here at the GAA. You think it's as easy as telling me to stop, just a quick command. But I'm not obeying you anymore."

I was out the door and power-walking across the sprawling lawns beyond the garden, when I heard my father behind me. I didn't slow.

"India, stop and talk to me," he sounded less angry, maybe even concerned. But I didn't allow myself to hope for that much. I was finally letting him go, since I'd never really had him anyway.

"Why?" I called over my shoulder, still walking, wondering when he was going shoot some tranquilizer and stop me, when the agents would follow to apprehend me. When I'd be locked up in my room and drugged with heavier doses of the mind control serum.

"Guess you'll have to send the copters, won't you? I wonder how far I'll get before I'm stopped and dragged back." I was at the shore now, and calmly reached for my wallet in my pocket. I withdrew my keycard and hopped onto my jet-ski, then sped off into the lake, leaving my father calling after me on the docks.

"India…"

Though my tone had been harsh, my eyes were filled with tears.

* * *

Terry woke up feeling groggy and sore. It wouldn't have surprised him, except for the fact that he knew he hadn't patrolled the night before. It was his off night. He tried to remember what had happened. His room looked just as it had the night before, his suit tossed on the floor as usual. He had a vague memory of waking up in the middle of the night to change into his pajamas, but he couldn't remember why. Maybe he had fallen asleep in his clothes?

He wrestled to remember the previous night as he sat up. His phone slid to the floor from the end of the bed.

Closing his eyes, it suddenly returned to him, washing over him with a feeling so intense, it reminded him of when he'd stepped into my room for the first time since the explosion…when my presence was so real it was as though I was with him in the flesh.

Terry scraped his fingers through his hair. Why was it so real? It was as though he had seen me recently. But what sense did that make?

Visions of a ball appeared from nowhere in his thoughts. He was moving stealthily along the walls, watching someone on the dance floor, waiting for the opportune moment to cut in. I had looked different than he usually pictured me in his dreams. There was no short pink hair, but it was long and brown with a shock of blonde. There was a stud in my nose, a sadness in the eyes, a maturity in the features.

It was so foggy that Terry assumed it was a dream. His head was swimming with confusion, and he couldn't tell whether he had been drugged or not.

The fear that he had only dreamed of me stung with a misery, and he felt as though he was back at square one in his searching for me. Nothing seemed certain.

Terry rose to shower, ignoring his phone and the missed calls from Bruce flashing on the screen. He couldn't talk to him now. He was too upset.

He needed to be in the only place where he could think to go for some form of relief…to hold to his promise, even if I'd never held to mine.

* * *

I wasn't really sure if I was actually going to follow through on my threat when I sat in the backseat of a cab, riding along Gotham's busy streets. I told the driver to give me a tour of the city (as if I needed it). I just wanted to be away from the island, and I wasn't really thinking at all. It was a sick, peaceful numbness. I wasn't remembering anything. I was tired of remembering and forgetting. I just wanted to _be._

I knew that I wasn't afraid of suicide, but I didn't really care either way. No one cared about me, so why should _I_?

"Can you take me to the forest preserve, please?" I asked, knowing the driver must have thought me odd to be sitting in silence as he pointed out the attractions of our nearly hour-long tour. My tab was sure to be high, but it didn't matter.

"Yes, ma'am. I think you'll enjoy it. It's very pretty out there this time of year."

I merely stared out my window, trying not to allow the familiarity of my hometown to make me think of him.

"Here we are," the driver announced minutes later. I looked up from where I had begun to gaze at my hands in my lap. The tall skyscrapers had disappeared, replaced instead with towering trees. The country rode stretched farther ahead, into the fields of green.

"Thanks," I said as I readied my wallet to pay the staggering fee I'd amounted, but the driver cast me a friendly grin and waved his hand.

"Just half is fine, ma'am. You'll be okay just walking from here?"

I nodded, feeling a hint of gratitude at his concern and civility.

"I couldn't be in a safer place," I smiled to be reassuring as I paid him, and he nodded courteously before driving away.

I stood alone as the engine drifted away into silence. The serene countryside was a vivid contrast against the loud, brash Gotham.

I didn't really know why I had come here. There wasn't anything remotely familiar to me about the Gotham Forest Preserve…not in my mind, at least.

Clutching my arrowhead, I began to wander thoughtlessly into the trees, away from the road.

The summer warmth made everything jade green, lush and bright. The noonday sun was comforting on my skin as I stepped over the brush, pushing through the dense greenery.

I had been walking for about an hour, maybe longer, not understanding why I seemed to know my way around. The trees began to spread out a little farther as I neared a brighter area. I squinted to see. I stepped over a fallen trunk, moving closer toward the clearing.

It was like a sanctuary, a haven of golden sunshine in a small, intimate meadow. For some reason, I felt as though it belonged to me somehow.

Memories tugged at my wounded heartstrings, my dormant thoughts gradually rising to life. Blue eyes were staring into mine, I sat safely in his arms. I couldn't remember what we talked about, but we were happy here.

Was this our getaway?

I strolled quietly, as if making a sudden movement would chase the fragile daydreams away. I lowered myself slowly to sit against a large boulder in the center of the meadow. I watched the moths and butterflies fluttering around me in the tall grass. Everything was radiating in the gentle sunlight, and the birds twittered melodically in the trees.

I wished that I had found this place sooner. It was better than my island with Axis, better than my spot in the sand along the lake. It was better because I felt I was meant to be here. Although my thoughts couldn't remember it, my heart had brought me here as though unconsciously fulfilling a forgotten vow.

I sighed, feeling a tear on my cheek. I should have remembered this place. How could something so beautiful and meaningful be forgotten? I felt the pang of guilt again, and scooted forward, sitting cross-legged as I plucked up a dandelion. The white furs rippled in the gentle breeze, and I smiled sadly before blowing them. They scattered and rose into the air, hovering in an angelic haze around me.

I felt strangely not alone, but I didn't turn to be sure. Nothing seemed frightening here, nothing seemed real. All was beautiful and safe, detached from the hostility of the outer world, though my heart wished desperately that he was with me. The remembrance that he was gone, that I hadn't been in his arms the night before, suddenly twisted my heart into the most painful grief. No matter how many years passed, nothing could erase that. It would never go away.

"Max..."

A voice resonated from the stillness, challenging my senses. My real name...I hadn't heard it in years, I hadn't _remembered _it in years.

There was only one person who knew me as "Max" anymore…

I must have truly been losing it, just as I had in the desert, just as I had the night before when I'd dreamed him up at my party. I saw the figure in the corner of my eye, but I couldn't bring myself to look. I had hallucinated him thousands of times over the years, only to see that I was alone. I couldn't play that game anymore; my heart was drained of its strength to bear being broken again.

Either he was standing there in the entrance, or I was dreaming again. As agonizing as it was for me to see him come and go as he did, I knew that I craved this ghostly torment. It was better than never knowing him, never seeing him.

Swallowing, I turned, moving against every fear that commanded my thoughts.

I felt suffocated with emotion.

Standing with an astonished look on his beautiful face was a young man with jet-black hair, framing his countenance and falling over his brow. He wore a white t-shirt and black jeans. He was a more muscular, taller and older version of the boy with an easy smile and brooding nature. But he was the same. The solemn sky-blue eyes rendered me paralyzed. My heart galloped. Memories...so many that I couldn't catch them all. His arms wrapped around me, walking back from the theater in high school, a confession of love, an argument, flying above Gotham, taking a bullet for him, dancing with him on a moonlit balcony...

And for some reason, I knew he was real.

My first instinct after the shock dissipated was to run into his arms, but something stopped me.

"Max," he spoke again, barely above a whisper. I couldn't recall that name on my own, so he must have been real.

I felt the cruelest throbbing in my chest we looked at each other. They must have lied to me for all of these years, because this wasn't a delusion. He wasn't dead. But while everything inside of me ached to run to him, I knew that we had been separated for a reason. He was Batman, my father's agency's mortal enemy. I couldn't be with him; they would kill him for sure this time when they found us together.

And I wasn't about to let that happen - even if I had to leave him. I wasn't going to let him die. The second chance I'd prayed for to save him was here, and I had to use it wisely.

But if I left, he would surely follow.

I didn't know if I could live without him again. As much as had been wrenched from my memory, I knew that I had only been _breathing_ for the past three years, not _living_. But if he died...no, I couldn't bear the thought. I always knew that I would die for him, even if it meant staying alive without him. Both lives were equal to death.

I had to run.

He took a step forward. My eyes widened, my head shook slightly in sudden dread. He looked painfully concerned for me, and as he took another step, I shot to my feet and tore off into the opposite direction.

Running away from the one I loved felt _worse_ than suicide.


	20. Chapter 19

**DesertedMirage Says: **Sorry for the wait, but hopefully this chapter will make amends for that. Thank you, **bubbles'cute, RedSharkBait, dispatcher652.**

I'll do my best to post the next one soon.

* * *

My body ached as if on fire. I wanted to stop running, to turn around, to hold onto him and never let him go. I couldn't even remember his name, but memories of him plunged through the surface of my forgetfulness, memories I hadn't accessed since we had been separated. What was I doing? How was I able to abandon the one I was hopelessly addicted to, the one I was meant for?

It was well beyond being _in love_ with him, deeper than a feeling. I cared for him, loved him, and I would give my life for him.

I pounded through the woods, weaving in and out of the trees. The rays of sunshine sliced through the leaves. It was a beautiful blur about me, and the trees swayed calmly in the breeze.

The roar of Gotham River crashed ahead, singing louder than the stream of the brooks. I could hear him running behind me, but he wasn't calling my name, most likely to conserve his energy in order to overtake me. He knew I wasn't turning around.

He was chasing me, just as I knew he would. With the only thought in mind of saving his life, I clenched my teeth and willed my legs to run faster. But where was I going? The only way to lose him was the river...but would he jump after me? I didn't know if my plan was to jump in and swim off with the current, or drown. Did death even matter anymore? I needed to know what option would benefit him, but failed to reach a conclusion.

I didn't look over my shoulder, but I could hear him gaining on me. There was no outrunning him, not even with all of my intense training at the agency. I would simply have to jump, and all else was up to fate.

My eyes were nailed ahead, where the forest was disappearing and crystal blue sky overwhelmed the view. A cliff over the river was swiftly approaching.

He was drawing ever closer now. Exerting all of my strength, I peddled to an abrupt stop at the edge, sending a confetti of dirt and rocks below. The river must have been a good thirty feet below. My lungs burned for oxygen as I stood overlooking the drop-off.

Hearing his racing footsteps behind me, I hesitated only a second before bounding off of the cliff.

The white waves zoomed closer, the wind pummeled my face as I reached terminal velocity.

I made impact with the surface with a violent splash, instantly blacking out for a few seconds. When I came to, I was still underwater, and caught a warped glimpse of the sun through the murky water. Before I could inhale any more water, I held my breath. The engaged river tossed me around like a toy, pushing me to its surface or swallowing me under whenever it so desired. Staying conscious became a task, and I noticed my mind beginning to wander as darkness clouded my thoughts. Through whirlpools, tumbling down falls, I struggled for air. What I hadn't remembered, though, was what lay ahead: Gotham Falls.

It was only when the river swirled me up to its surface that I finally heard the horrific rushing of tons of water being dumped below. It came as a deafening rumble in my ears, confirming that I was going to die.

The cascade neared. I desperately searched the disappearing edge ahead for a rock or bush of some sort, anything to cling to. I squinted to see. Something extended over the edge, a black mass of twisted branches from a fallen tree. Would it hold me?

Trying desperately to keep afloat so that I could see clearly, I was only feet away from the tree. With great effort, I managed to swim in its direction.

In no time, I was thrust over the edge. My arms clung to the wide branch, and I swung so much that I thought I might fall. But I held on as tightly as I could, although not knowing what I would do next.

It wasn't much longer before my muscles began to quiver. I was exhausted; I couldn't hold on. My energy was already sapped from the run and the struggle to stay afloat.

One of my arms dropped and dangled; my strength was failing. Now holding on with one hand, the branch began to teeter with my weight. I looked down, and my stomach lurched upon sight of the dizzying distance away from the bottom, where white foam exploded into the Atlantic Ocean.

My ears were ringing, and the waves were crashing, yet somehow, I could hear my name being called.

He had jumped after me.

Not only was I losing my grip, but also consciousness. The true battle was against my strength and lack of oxygen. If I closed my eyes, I would fall to the mercy of the jagged rocks below. And yet, this was the consequence; I knew I was going to die.

The branch heaved. With a sigh and prayer that his life would somehow be spared, I allowed my eyes to shut. My fingers released the branch.

But a hand clasped my wrist.

As my mind began to fade to black, I felt myself being lifted. My last sensation was the scraping of the branches against my skin. For a moment, all was silent and still. I felt completely conscious, yet somehow absent from my thoughts and surroundings. My eyes were closed, and I began to hear first a gentle flow of water, birds chirping, and someone speaking.

"I almost lost you again, Max," came a whisper from the abyss.

Opening my eyes, yellow sunlight and green trees slowly spread into focus. The sun glinted cheerily through the leaves, and all was tranquil and gentle. I was laying on my back on the river bank, and I began to realize I was being held tightly to someone's chest.

He had survived.

"Terry," I breathed the name, the memory emerging from my subconscious. It was the first time I had been able to recall his name, and it was an effortless recollection, second-nature…as though I had never forgotten it in the first place.

Terry pulled away some. Gently, he brushed a strand of hair from my face, but paused when he saw the necklace on my collar. Our eyes met.

Realization enveloped our thoughts as it all sunk in, as the pieces of the puzzle that had brought us together were joined. We had just come close to losing one another, and yet here we were, joined together by our love and a token of our relationship. If it hadn't been for our necklaces, we might not have found each other.

"Terry," I voiced again, reaching up to touch his cheek. I didn't want to forget that name ever again. I could barely believe I had once lost his name. I wasn't going to let that happen again, no matter what became of us.

Our lips met, and everything felt safe and _normal_, being in his arms. In that golden moment, my thoughts abandoned all reason of what the agency would do if they found us, forsaking what certain peril lay in waiting for us. All time and space began to fade.

_This_ was real. Come what may, he was with me.

There was an urgency in the kiss now, and he slid his hands from my neck to cradle the back of my head. I gripped his collar and moved a hand up his chest and into his hair.

We paused briefly for air.

"Don't go," I pleaded childishly when the memory of our predicament fought to resurface.

"How can I?" Terry murmured fervently before closing in again.

I was feeling weak and my thoughts were soaring as the kiss grew deeper. I had to focus.

_He'll be killed if I don't leave. But what will I say?_

We parted again, and I attempted to gather my resolve.

"Terry," I spoke against all of my will as his nose brushed against my ear and hair, "I…can't stay here."

He pulled back some to search my eyes. "You're right. I'm getting you home."

"Terry--"

"Max, you don't have to be afraid anymore," he caressed my face with his hand, his eyes roaming my features. "I've found you and you'll be free now--"

"At what expense?" I asked in a worried voice, reaching up to take his hand. If I knew Terry, he would be more than willing to risk death to save me.

He sighed, then frowned in concern when he spotted a cut on my temple, sustained from the sharp rocks in the river.

"You're bleeding…"

"I'm fine, Terry," I assured gently, sitting up and out of his arms. "What about you?"

He grumbled as though the inquiry was unnecessary, still looking at me as though I was about to shatter at any moment.

"I wish you hadn't followed me," I groaned and dropped my head into my hands as it dawned on me how grim his outlook was.

"A simple thank you would suffice for saving your life," Terry replied.

_Good going! Way to be ungrateful, Max._

But I didn't see that he was smiling playfully.

"No, Terry, I'm sorry--I didn't mean to say it that wa--"

I was silenced by his kiss. When we broke away, we stared at one another for a moment. Suddenly, we were laughing.

"I can't lose you again, Terry," I whispered when my smiling faded and produced a few tears. "I must have really hit my head hard to be sitting here doing nothing to save you when they've got to be looking for me by now…"

"Max," Terry spoke softly, lifting my chin. "I'm Batman, and you're Batgirl," his mouth rose into a comforting smile. "We're going to be okay."

"But there are obstacles… I can't just go back to Gotham while you go off and try to fight them…" I protested quietly, looking away from him as the thought of him taking on the GAA single-handedly made me shudder. "We don't even have time now to plan any esca--" I was stopped in mid-sentence by the sound of helicopters in the distance.

I looked at him fearfully. "Terry, please go."

"And do what? I'd only come right back--"

"_No_, Terry," I was panicking now, frustrated with his stubbornness. "You have to go--now! I've gone all these years with the guilt that I'm the reason you were gone and I can't let you die again, Terry!"

Confusion and sympathy crossed his face when he analyzed what I'd said. "You mean they told you I was…dead?"

I sighed, swallowing as my heart rate quickened with fright. The helicopters were approaching.

Terry also sighed, looking angry suddenly. "Come on, let's get out of here," he helped me to my feet. "I promise it'll be okay, Max," he tried to reassure me, but I shook my head.

"Terry, you don't understand, they'll kill you!"

"Do you think I'm going to let you go, Max?!"

"I don't know--yes! You _have_ to!"

Terry grit his teeth and dragged a hand through his black hair. Then after a moment, he looked up at me with the most loving expression and replied, "I can't."

My eyes filled with tears as he tenderly touched my hair.

"Neither can I," I confessed in a terrified whisper.

We gazed sadly into each other's eyes, and the helicopters were suddenly upon us.

* * *

I don't remember much of what happened next. The shock of the moment has made most of the details scarce. I remember seeing only Terry's face for a moment, and then the fear flashing through his eyes as he focused behind me. I too saw a glimpse of armed agents behind him. We were besieged. In one lightning-speed motion, Terry had moved me in back of him, in order to protect me. But he didn't see the agents all around us. A dart penetrated my skin, fired from a tranquilizer. As Terry caught me in his arms, he was suddenly crying out in pain. I yanked the dart from my neck, but the drug was already spreading. With my remaining consciousness, I watched them taser him. I reached out to hold him, but was ripped away.

My last image was of Terry being wrestled to the ground by a handful of agents, and bound with ties.


	21. Chapter 20

**DesertedMirage Says: **Sorry it took so long for this. Just a few chapters left now.

**RedSharkBait**, I forgot to add in my last author's note that it's perfectly fine - I like long reviews. :) Thank you to **dispatcher652, bubbles'cute, This is L.**

* * *

Terry was the first thought in my mind when I regained consciousness. I was under house arrest in my apartment, with guards stationed at my door and patrolling outside the window on the ground. The sky was black; I must have been out for the entire afternoon. I splashed cold water onto my face in the bathroom and took sips to clear my head. I lifted my head to look briefly in the mirror.

_He sighed, then frowned in concern when he spotted a cut on my temple, sustained from the sharp rocks in the river._

_"You're bleeding…"_

With a soft sigh, I touched the cut, then quickly washed and bandaged it.

Terry was in the agency's custody, no doubt. I couldn't know if they had made any other moves yet, but I had a feeling they would want to get information out of him before anything else. This meant I had some time, although I had to use it wisely. I needed to get to him immediately, so that we could communicate and conspire a method of escape.

My plan was to bring the entire Guardian Angel Agency to ruins. There was no other way out.

I hastily paced the floor, trying to assemble my manic thoughts. After so many years of following orders, it was difficult for me to do something contrary to the agency.

I breathed in deeply, perched cross-legged on the end of my bed. My eyes scanned my room, eventually lingering on the laptop in my desk. Good thing I hadn't left it in my office the day before.

_I need some help. _

Although I was shivering with fear of my own newfound insubordination, I opened the laptop. I knew that they were closely monitoring me...Zeke in particular. He had kept my previous Uptown communication with Terry a secret from my father. This worried me, because I knew that he had an ulterior motive behind his "protection." But I couldn't weigh that risk at the moment; the time was racing away and Terry needed me.

I was sending a distress call to the Batcomputer itself. Oddly enough, I could remember the IP easily, despite the many things I had forgotten. Only Terry, Barbara Gordon and I knew the IP address. Knowing I was chancing the secrecy of the Bat legacy, I typed the message anyway. Concisely as I could, I unfolded everything that Bruce needed to know of our whereabouts, including information about myself to prove to him that it really was me and not an imposter. While I awaited his reply, I rummaged through my kitchen and gathered items for a makeshift utility belt. My first stop would be my office, to retrieve my suit. Until then, I would have to go old school.

I laid out onto my bed a screwdriver, kitchen knife, matches, penlight, extension chords and pepper spray. I was certain I could take the basic security down without many tools, and I also had my identity on my side. They wouldn't want to harm the boss's daughter, now would they?

As for the security cameras, I would handle them the same way I would any others on a mission: set up a false feed by looping the image. All it took was a simple hack into the security system through my computer.

I turned at the sound of an incoming message. I quickly returned to my desk and read the laptop screen.

_Our communications will have to be brief, Max. Don't reply to this message; it's dangerous enough that we're in contact at all. Do exactly as you said. Hack the security system and infiltrate the cameras with a false feed. Now that I have your IP, I can access limited control of the cameras as well. I'll make sure there are no glitches with your override. I'll be monitoring from afar, but it's mainly up to you now. Get to Terry and make your escape. Make sure you have a cleared exit from the building if you're planning to use explosives. It's too dangerous for police personnel to ambush the island, so you'll need to leave by boat. I'll see both you and McGinnis soon._

When I closed Bruce's message, I sat in numbness for a moment.

_This is it._

With Terry on my mind, I deleted the message for safety purposes, then proceeded to hack into the mansion's local security system and loop the video camera feeds.

I shut my laptop and hid it away into my desk. After securing my homemade utility belt, I used the old-fashioned trick of piling pillows beneath my covers to give the illusion that someone was sleeping in the bed.

I stepped to the window. Sure enough, a guard was walking below, in the grass. Thankfully, I was able to open the antique window without making much noise. The guard moved normally, oblivious. I stretched a leg outside, straddling the window-sill. My room was on the third story of the mansion, and the ground was far below me; good thing I enjoyed heights. I crouched on the narrow ledge, eyeing the premises. There were too many guards patrolling below for me to go it by foot. My best bet was the rooftops. Feeling like my teenage self pre-Batgirl, I tossed the extension chord to wrap around the gutter, then pulled myself up. Gracefully, I swung my legs onto the rooftop and rolled. I stood up cautiously and surveyed my surroundings. The rooftops stretched for yards around. The mansion blended into office complexes, training quarters, the hospital ward, and the security station, where Terry was being held.

First, I needed to get to my office. I sprinted lithely across the uneven roof, feeling a rush in my veins and cool wind filling my chest. The sky above was scattered with stars and a half-moon, but flashing storm clouds hung over the lake in the distance. I paused when I arrived at the air duct which I was sure would eventually lead to my office. With a few twists of my screwdriver, I had tugged off the vent. I dropped inside, landing as lightly as I could into the horizontal, metal cavern. Here, it was cramped, with only a few feet of elbow room on all sides. I crawled along the cold aluminum chamber, grateful that it was summer and thus the metal wasn't hot from the heater. I could see the offices of a few other top agents on the way. All of them were empty at the late hour. After wriggling down another vertical drop, I spotted my office through a vent. Thankfully, it was empty.

I pushed open the vent and slid onto the ground. It was dark inside, and I left it that way so as not to draw attention from outside the closed door. Using my penlight clenched between my teeth, I opened the closet and reached for my suit. After peeling off my clothes, I hid them in my closet and got into costume. Once I had pulled on my cowl and replaced the vent into the ceiling, I moved to the door. I no longer needed the cover of the air ducts, now that I had my suit. I used my infrared vision to check the hallway. Someone was walking by the door. I waited for them to pass, then left my office, locking it behind me. Moving carefully in the shadowy hallway, I leapt across to Axis' door. I pressed two fingers to the surface to hear through the microphones sensors in the suit. Vacant. The next objective required no lock-picking whatsoever; Axis had given me the passkey long ago.

I tapped the code into the keypad and let myself in. I strode up to his closet and pushed aside his business suits and ties.

_We can't have Batman fighting without a costume..._

Finally, my hand found the angel suit, then folded it and tucked it beneath one arm.

_Hmm. Air ducts or roofs?_

I glanced up at the vent, scowling.

_Roofs._

I opened the window and scaled my way up to the rooftop.

Now I needed to access the security wing.

The security presence was more prevalent when I came upon the portion where the traditional mansion rooftop merged with the industrial concrete. I sidestepped behind an air duct before I could be seen by a rooftop guard toting a gun. When he went the opposite direction and his back was turned, I leapt out and wrapped my body around him. Before he could even let out a cry, I had pressured his neck. His body went limp as he fell, stunned. I bound his wrists and ankles with chord, then hid him in the air duct. Another guard had just turned up ahead, a female. She frowned in confusion upon seeing me.

"Luna, what the hell are you doing up he--"

I silenced her with a tranquilizer dart, then did the same with her as I had the other.

I kept forward, making steady progress toward the prison area. I would need to go inside, where the guards would be practically everywhere. I would have to attract all of the sentinels within the inner sanctum and somehow cut them off from the rest of the wing while I made contact with Terry. My plan was to use my identity and status to my advantage.

Working from the outside in, and trusting that Bruce was ensuring my override on the cameras was holding up, I entered the duct just above the chief security officer's station. The ducts were wider now, and I could walk instead of crawl. I grumbled when I saw the size of the vent leading into the officer's quarters. It was as tall as me, and it wouldn't be as clean of an entrance as it was in the mansion.

I used my screwdriver once again, not wanting to kick it open and cause a stir. The metal creaked, but the burly guard remained seated at his desk, gazing sleepily at the wall of computer monitors. I continued with my unscrewing, then once the lid was free, I held it in my fingers before it could fall and crash to the tile floor. I extended the lid outward, into the room, then carefully lowered it to the floor. He jerked out of his half-asleep state when I leapt into the office. Sluggishly, he turned in his swivel chair. His bleary eyes widened in curiosity.

"You're sneakin' around the vents now, Luna?"

I smirked, lifting a finger up to my lips in a shushing motion. I withdrew the tranquilizer gun from my suit's utility belt. The guard was wide awake now. Before he could reach for his gun, I'd fired. But his size would make it take longer for the chemical to spread. The guard stumbled toward me. He tackled clumsily, but I tripped him with my leg. Once he was on the ground, I pinned a knee against his back and used my chord to bind him.

"Who are you?" he drawled in the throws of unconsciousness.

After he was bound, I lugged him up into the air duct. I parked myself at his desk.

"I'm Max Gibson," I whispered as my fingers rattled on the keys. The main computer system control was in Zeke's office. But I could at least disable the cameras in the security wing from here, and see which cell Terry was in. My eyes scanned the twenty-five monitors, each one showing a different hallway or prison cell. Finally, I spotted him. His cell was large and dim, with stone walls and floors. His wrists were chained behind his back, against the wall.

I felt a warm lump rising in my throat, seeing him like that. Knowing I had to move quickly, I looped the image on each camera, then left the office.

The hallway was vacant, but the walkway leading to Terry's cell was on a bridge outside of the building. It led to a tower where a sniper was stationed. This led to yet another bridge and tower. There were four in total, forming a square around a central corridor, where Terry's cell lay. I would have to subdue each sniper and hope I wasn't seen from the ground officers. All it would take was a single slip, and my mission would fail. Not even angels were allowed to walk around the high security area of the agency's prison without a passkey.

I would have to move with stealth and speed. It was the only way to avoid being seen below.

I stood at the doorway leading to the first bridge. The wind had picked up substantially, and the night air swept into my direction. I crouched and lay flat on my stomach, then inched out onto the bridge. Carefully, I grasped one of the iron rungs of the railing, then shifted my body over the edge. Using the magnetic technology in the fingertips and feet of the suit, I crept upside down on the underside of the bridge. Hopefully, to the guards below, I was one with the shadows, in my black suit. My heart throbbed with apprehension as I made my way to the tower. My head was taught with pressure from being upside down, and I had to focus to see the inverted view of the tower.

Once I'd arrived, I pulled myself up to the bridge, being careful not to make a sound. The tower was windowless, with only a pointed metal roof above the sniper. I knew a few of the snipers that worked here, and they were all serious men who were masters at their craft. Not only were they skilled marksmen, but they were known for their hand-to-hand combat as well. While they weren't angels, they were still some of the top-rated agents at the headquarters, since they guarded my father's captives.

I gathered a deep breath. I would have to do my best to make a sneak attack on him before he could send out an alarm for backup.

I released the breath I'd been holding. The sniper whirled.

Panicking for a moment, I remained still.

"ID yourself!" he snarled, gun trained onto me.

_Great!_

I glanced at the weapon. "India," I tried to keep my voice level.

The sniper's brow creased in skepticism. He glared from behind his sunglasses.

"I'll remove my mask." I lifted my hands slowly to my neck. The sniper's stare followed with hawk-like precision.

When my cowl was slid back onto my neck, the guard's jaw tensed.

"Don't make this difficult," he advised severely while lowering his weapon. He wasn't ready to risk causing me harm.

"But it's much more fun that way," I murmured, then pounced.

The guard was strong in his body-armor, and it took a great amount of work to wrestle him to the ground. But he suddenly flipped me, reversing my progress. I wrapped a leg around his knee, attempting to dislocate it, but he held firm.

_Think!_

I relaxed and ceased struggling. The guard puffed a sigh, reaching for his tranquilizer with one hand. Before he could use it, I flung my head back into his face. He fell back, holding his bloody nose. Instantly, I was on my feet, kicking his tranquilizer and sniper rifle to the side. The guard was beginning to recover, so I swiftly used the tranquilizer. I missed on the first shot, and he thrust me into the railing with a bone-crushing swoop. I reached up to grasp him in a headlock before my arms could be pinned, then quickly injected his neck at point-blank range. He fell back, staggering and reaching for his communicator. I snatched it away just as he fell to the ground, and cancelled the call before it could be sent.

"One down, three to go…" I muttered while stretching my aching back. After I'd bound the sniper, I noticed a black figure jogging toward me on the bridge, from the other tower.

_Slaggit._

Obviously, the scuffle had drawn some attention. My cowl was still unadorned, and I left it off.

"Freeze!" shouted the sniper, weapon aimed.

_I don't have time for this._

Deciding to eliminate this one quickly, I began to walk forward a few steps, hands raised as a sign of surrender. As I drew nearer, this sniper, too, looked baffled upon recognition of my face.

This one chose to try to call for help before dealing with me, however.

"Code red, there's a distu--"

My batarang rendered the sniper's communicator useless, and I rocketed forward, aiming for their knees. I was able to tranquilize him and tie him without as much of a fight as with the other.

But two others still remained. My method of working the perimeter wasn't succeeding as smoothly as I'd hoped, and I knew I needed another approach. After dumping the second sniper next to the first in the tower, I deduced that the bridges were no longer a safe plan of travel. I looked up at the sky, now amassing dismal, black clouds. Raindrops began to drizzle, and the wind swirled unpredictably, switching direction with each second.

_I'll have to fly._

The rain would help to conceal me, but the wind would make it difficult to steer. With a sigh, I leapt into the air and spread my wings. With difficulty, I flew about fifty feet above the towers, all the while being pummeled with rain and angry gusts. I hovered above the third tower, then made a dive bomb to the bridge. Before the sniper could turn, I'd flung a chord, yanking him to the ground. Once he was unconscious, I flew to do the same with the final sniper guarding the central prison chamber. The last was firing his gun upon sight of me. I had to dodge the bullets before I could attack. I let a yell escape when one caught in the shoulder of my suit. While I didn't think that it had pierced my skin very far, the impact sent a painful jolt through my muscle tissue. When the final sniper was out, I leaned for a moment against the railing, hunched over and pressing a hand to my collar. Removing it, I saw ruby blood smeared on the black fingers of my suit.

I had only felt a bullet in my skin three times. Once when on a mission with Axis and Luna, now, and when I had saved Terry in Gotham three years ago. The burning was intense, and I felt white hot pressure in my eyes while I struggled to bear the pain. Some of my agony was fear-induced, because I had been deeply traumatized by my first experience with a gunshot wound.

_You're almost there, Max!_

Swallowing back the cry in my throat, I clawed myself up to my feet. Now that the snipers were no longer a concern, I could move with more freedom across the final bridge.

I had to grasp the railing several times to steady myself as I moved cautiously across the bridge in the open air. The wind fought to blow me over the edge, and the rain was traveling in diagonal sheets. When I stood outside of the heavily secured door leading into the top security prison, I reached into my belt compartment for one of the keycards I'd swiped from a guard. With a quick scan across the sensor, I was admitted entry.

The rain was muted against the heavy concrete and steel walls of the prison, and I used my ears and infrared vision to see around corners and partially through walls. The hallways were dark and narrow, but eventually I arrived at an open space with black stone walls and bare light bulbs flickering on the ceiling. Some areas of the floor were well-lit, others were shrouded in darkness. But most notably, three guards stood before a pair of titanium doors. Still hiding in the shadows of the hallway, I replaced my mask, then casually walked inside.

"Luna? We weren't expecting you," noted a guard with a suspicious edge in his voice.

I felt my heart hammering wildly in my chest. If I was caught now, in here…it would all be over. I was deep within the center of the prison, with the only way out being the exact way I'd come in. It wouldn't be hard for them to trap us here. And they were sure to hasten Terry's death, if they found me.

I exhaled inaudibly to calm my nerves.

"Boss's orders. He wants me to administer serum--to get him to talk," I answered quietly, hoping they would think I sounded like her, and that I had been right in my assumption that they were planning to give Terry truth-serum before the execution.

The other two guards shared glances, their stern expressions unreadable. The one who had questioned me crossed his muscular arms over his chest.

"We didn't receive the memo."

"The storm's interfered with some of the communication. Now can I get this over with?" I gave my best attempt to imitate Luna's short-temper. If they bought this, I would be amazed.

The leader eyed me, top to bottom. I reached up to rub my neck, trying to hide the gunshot wound; I hoped I hadn't been too late.

The guard eventually stepped to the side, gesturing at the others with a wave of his hand. Reluctantly, they followed suit. The door was right in my path.

Sighing indignantly, I walked ahead. My pulse was galloping in disbelief that they had accepted my alibi. My thoughts tumbled over to Terry, who was just beyond the door.

But the light at the end of the tunnel was suddenly snuffed out.

The chief guard stepped into my path. "You know our drill, Luna. Show your face."

I supplied the first response that came to mind.

"And if I decide not to?"

The guard smirked, narrowing his eyes.

"We won't know that it's really you."

The guard on the left had moved from the door to directly behind me, and my eyes caught the other as he readied a chord from his belt.

The next instant, I had been grabbed by the guard behind me. The other tossed the chord, and my arms were pinned to my sides. Just as the chief reached for my cowl, I pulled up my legs to fire my rocket boots into his chest. As he went spiraling into the wall, the other guard and I were thrown into the opposite direction. When we collided into the wall, the guard slumped onto the ground. I still had two to deal with, and they each lunged. I dropped with an agile skid across the floor, then balanced on my palm while flourishing my legs. My kicking tripped the two, and I rapidly grasped my tranquilizer gun in the moment their backs were turned. One shot succeeded, but the other was off by a hair.

The chief guard was left standing, now angrily readying his gun. When he fired, I deflected with a swipe of the metal spikes on my arm. He continued to fire, but I was flying around the room now, trying to find a spot in the shadows to hide and drop-attack from.

"You can't hide up there forever!" taunted the guard once I'd vanished from sight, hiding on the ceiling. He shot blindly, blowing out one of the few light bulbs as he did so. Warily, I crawled along to another spot once his bullets began to ricochet too closely for my comfort. I unleashed a flurry of batarangs randomly, to distract him as well as to shatter the remaining lights. This fight would be easier in the dark.

The gunshots were more frantic now that it was pitch black. I used my night vision to find him, then jumped him from above. He was tall and heavy, and it took me a moment to have a free hand available to tranquilize him.

The silence following the struggle was a stark contrast, and the darkness made me shudder. I panted, holding my bleeding shoulder. After checking to make sure all three were knocked out, I finally walked up to the door. Taking a moment to compose myself and catch my breath, I readied the keycard.

Invalid ID.

I grumbled in frustration. This wasn't the right key.

_What could it be?_

I leaned in exhaustion against the ice-cold metal door, my fists pressed to my forehead. Lazily, my eyes rolled around the room. I was growing wearier by the moment, and it was getting harder to think clearly.

I turned and looked at each fallen guard.

_Maybe I need _their _keys?_

I gathered each guard's keycard, then returned to the door. And with a swipe of each, a click echoed from deep within the thick layers of titanium. It was the most welcoming sound I could hear at that moment. The door shrieked and cranked as it slid open. I waited to see inside.

The dungeon before me was a circular castle tower, a chamber of shadow and stone. A muted sapphire ring of light streamed from high above. I looked up to see windows some thirty feet up. My eyes followed the beams down to the ground, where they bathed the center of the space, and the edge of the glow rested on a figure against the wall.

His hands were bound in chains behind his back, his shirt was tattered and shred, and his form shivered very slightly.

My heart skipped in compassion, and I took quiet steps toward him. He hadn't looked at me yet, and kept his head down. I paused within a few feet of him, standing in the brightest spot of the room. Terry finally raised his head to look up at me.

His eyes glowed blue in the dimness. They held no recognition in them, though, as we stared at each other.

I reached up to my neck and slowly peeled back my mask.

"Max..." he whispered with a smile as I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms around him.


	22. Chapter 21

**DesertedMirage Says: **Here we go! Thank you for reading and sticking around. It gets a little difficult to write this sometimes because it's such high intensity at the moment because we're in the final stretch. But it is enjoyable. I just don't want to end with anything less than my absolute best, hence the waits between the chapters. I try to edit and read over again, just to make sure it's up to par for your enjoyment.

Thank you, **RedSharkBait, dispatcher652, Eliza (I see you!), bubbles'cute.**

* * *

"Terry," I replied in a sigh of relief, overjoyed to be able to hold him again.

He chuckled. "I would hug back, but uh--"

"Oh," I pulled away, smiling sheepishly. "Easily fixable," I stated while withdrawing a lock-pick from my belt.

Terry embraced me the moment he was free.

"I missed you," he whispered as he stroked my hair.

"I missed you, too," I sighed, and my words couldn't have been any more of an understatement.

"How did you get here?" He sounded concerned as he held me back some. "And what happened to your shoulder?" His blue eyes were frowning.

"I'm okay, Terry, I promise--it's just a flesh wound. I got in touch with Bruce and hacked the security cameras."

"You've made it past all of the guards?"

I nodded, and Terry rubbed his head. "Wow… That was a huge risk--are you sure you're oka--"

"Terry, the real risk is with you. They won't bother me. There's nothing they can take away from me but my mind…and you." I voiced tenderly.

He sighed, looking me sadly in the eyes. "I really don't want you at the center of this, Max. This could be more dangerous than we think."

"I think I've _been_ at the center of this for a long time," I noted with a dry smile. "I'm the only one who knows the computer system here and is willing to rebel. But it's going to take more than that to get out."

"What's your plan?" Terry asked with another sigh.

"Total devastation. I don't know how else to get out. If I run off, they'll send someone after me, and you as well. So I can't smuggle you away, even with the security under my control. So we need to trap the main officers--" I spoke quickly, trying not to dwell too long on the fact that I was betraying my father. "--and then call for backup from the police. Bruce said a police ambush would be risky, but that's only if the leaders are free to fight back. If we can put the entire estate on lockdown and disable their defenses, then we can leave."

Terry still looked uneasy with the idea of me staying to fight.

"Like you had a better plan, Batman?" I joked to make him smile.

Terry eventually laughed softly. "Well… I guess danger comes with the territory of being in love with Batgirl."

I grinned. "Now you know what it was like for me all those times in high school when I worried about _you_."

"I guess so," he admitted. "What's that?" Terry pointed to the folded fabric tied to the side of my utility belt.

"Oh, I almost forgot! It's your get-up."

"Vinelli's suit." Terry scowled as I unfolded it and handed it to him.

"Do you want to us to be together again or not?" I lifted an eyebrow.

"Of course I do, Max."

I planted a kiss on his cheek. "Then you'll need to be properly suited, Batman." I smiled expectantly up into his eyes.

Terry relented with a sigh.

After he'd changed, I slid my cowl back on and we left the cell.

We checked to ensure that all of the guards were still unconscious in the corridor outside of the prison, then made our way to the sniper bridges. Still moving cautiously despite the tranquilized guards and disabled security cameras, we finally arrived at the rooftops.

"You traveled by air ducts? Shway," noted Terry.

"I had to, I didn't have my suit at first," I chuckled while lifting the vent from a duct over the mansion.

Our first objective was to reach Axis, and then Luna. I explained to Terry that I didn't believe we stood as high a chance of escaping without the two of them on our side. He seemed doubtful at first, but didn't want to risk having a similar scenario as the rooftop fight with Luna that had nearly taken my life.

We navigated quickly through the air ducts, knowing time wasn't on our side. The hallways were still dark and empty, and nothing seemed as though any trouble had been discovered. Side by side, Terry and I moved along the walls of the corridors, until we finally arrived at the living quarters wing.

"This is his room," I whispered as we strode up to Axis' apartment.

"Are you sure he's not out on a mission or something?"

I shook my head. "Not with you being held 'captive'."

Terry nodded understandingly. "So we'll have to corner him, since he'll be sure to try to call for backup the moment he sees me."

"Terry," I paused before we made our entrance, looking up into his face. "Before we go in there…I just need to say that I'll be doing the talking and…just promise me you'll trust me."

Terry nodded again with a small smile.

Inside, Axis was reclined on his couch, asleep. He stirred and slowly awoke when Terry closed the door behind us and I walked over. He frowned in confusion, glancing from Terry to me.

I removed my cowl, and Terry did the same with his.

Axis' eyes were fully open now, and he stood to his feet.

"Axis, wait!" I grasped his shoulders.

"What have you done, India?!" he tried to brush me away, but I held firm.

"Exactly what I should have done all along! And you know I'm right, Axis. You were the one who told me to try to be myself as much as I could. You fought to keep me as happy and normal as Max and not dead and depressed as India. Now it's time for you to join me."

"India--"

"I'm Max, Axis. I'm not India anymore."

Axis' jaw became taught as he looked away from me. His eyes swiftly focused onto Terry, who was hanging back at the door behind me.

"Axis, you don't belong here," I reminded him gently, still holding his shoulders. His eyes didn't meet mine, and he continued to glower at Terry.

"So this is what you've chosen?"

"Yes."

"You-you want to be back in _danger, _with…_him_?" He was frowning in angered disbelief at me. "You didn't think I was protecting you? You didn't believe I could care for you?"

"Axis, you need to understand," I ignored his stab at Terry. "This agency has to be stopped. They piece together anything they want. This place isn't real. They forced you into submission with their serum, just like they did to me. But I was able to shake it, Axis. See? I'm here, I'm breaking free. I'm being the real me and not India. You're Nick, not Axis. You're the good guy who got dragged onto the wrong team when you were only trying to help people. You need to be free now too, and I believe you can."

Axis clenched his fists as a bitter silence hung in the air.

"But I don't _have_ a catalyst, like you do, Indi--…Max," he eventually confessed in a pained voice, and behind the coldness in his eyes, I found the authentic heartbreak.

I swallowed. "You said you loved me. So rebel for my sake, until you're able to do it for your own."

Axis tipped his head to the ground with a visible sigh. His eyes closed for a moment as he made his decision.

"I promise you'll succeed, with my help… You have my word," he finally vowed softly, his eyes lifting to mine.

After I'd briefly shared my plan of a lockdown and accessing Zeke's office to gain total control of the computer system, Axis left for his office to prepare and make sure the security override was still intact.

Axis left the room, walking by Terry wordlessly. I watched Terry closely, seeing the glimmer of hurt in his unmasked eyes. I walked up to him slowly, took his face into my hands, and kissed his lips sincerely.

"I love you, Terry."

When I looked into his eyes, this time, they were smiling.

"I know, and I love you more," he responded with a gentle smile.

* * *

Now there was only one more ground to cover before we took action.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" Terry held my arm when we stood before the closed door. I knew his gaze was concerned, behind his mask.

I smiled reassuringly. "No, this will be easy. Be right back."

As I stealthily picked the lock and opened the door, I knew that I was secretly wishing I had taken Terry up on his offer. But this was something I had to settle for myself.

While Terry waited behind the door with his invisibility cover activated, I took a couple of soundless steps inside. With the door closed behind me, I looked around. It was mostly dark at the late hour, but a dim light glowed beneath the door leading into the bedroom. I carefully checked the kitchen, just in case. No one there. I proceeded to the bedroom door. Her back was angled slightly to the door, and she was standing before her desk, as far as I could gather from my infrared vision. I pushed on the door very lightly, holding my breath captive in my chest. I couldn't allow her to sense me before I'd fully entered.

"Don't move, Luna," I voiced quietly.

She had been staring down at her desk, and what looked to be a blueprint of some sort, beside her open laptop.

Only her eyes moved, sliding guardedly into my direction.

"I had a feeling you might drop by." Luna smirked.

I was the one in the suit, with weapons at my fingertips, and Luna recognized this. She didn't make a move.

"Very impressive, India."

I twisted my head slightly, suspicious.

Luna smiled steadily. "You were able to fool everyone…everyone but the one you're parading around as." She sighed. "See, we seem to have picked the same date to rebel. But I do think I should get first dibs, since I've been plotting much longer than you, of course."

My fingers curled into fists. "You really think this is all about you?"

"As if you don't either?" She snorted.

"Look, this whole agency needs to come down," I persisted, struggling to maintain my cool. "You may not be able to realize that aside from your own ambition and hatred, but we're both moving in the same direction."

"Ah, so you're trying to convince me _not _to destroy you as well?" Luna looked amused, boldly turning to face me head-on. "Well at least this will be entertaining. I'm glad you're choosing to go down with a fight, Gibson."

"I'm not going down, Luna," I snarled. "What is this about? What makes you hate me so much? I didn't ask to be brought here, I didn't request this life!"

Luna chuckled.

"It's really not that complicated, India. You know exactly why you're my target." Her almond eyes narrowed resentfully.

I sighed inwardly, attempting to calm my nerves.

"If it's Axis you want, then Axis you'll get," I hurled with controlled determination. "I don't want anything else to do with him, and I won't be in your way any more. I won't report either of you to the police, and you'll be home-free, if you'll only help me get out."

"Sounds perfect," Luna laughed dryly. "But we're missing something very crucial in our bargain, here."

"Oh?"

"I'm a firm believer in vengeance, India. Now how unfulfilling and rude do you think it would be for me to be running off with Axis while I never succeeded to battle you?" She grinned wickedly.

I felt a shiver on my skin. So it was a final duel Luna wanted, a fight to the death, no doubt. Could I really win against her when it was a battle she had breathed for all of these years? When I was her arch enemy? When she was a meticulously trained assassin?

"I'm not fighting you, Luna, it's not worth it," I answered quietly, decisively.

But Luna exhaled in pity.

"Such a shame you won't be able to make good on your effort to escape, then, without me on your side…" She slowly grinned sarcastically. "But I would think _you_ know as well as anyone that I'm not one to hesitate to fire into an opponent's back," she snickered. "And it'd be bonus points to take out dear McGinnis."

I swallowed.

Terry. She was threatening _him_ now. This changed everything. Luna was refusing to let me go without a fight. She wouldn't hold to her side of the bargain if I didn't agree to her conditions.

_I might lose against her…_

But did Terry really need me all that much to get him out? And Axis, he could also escape on his own - Luna would see to it. Maybe the Guardian Angel Agency was bound to me more than I thought, maybe it was always somehow meant for the agency to be tied to my ankle, like a weight…like an anchor to drown me. After all, if I truly was the core of the agency, then didn't that mean that I, too, had to be stopped?

_Do you want Terry to live or die?_

Before I could allow my fear to have a strong enough grip to stifle my resolve, I gave my reply with a painful sacrifice.

"Deal."

* * *

I met Terry in the hallway. He grinned in relief to see me still in once piece after my confrontation with the one who'd almost shot me to death three years ago.

"So all systems are go?" he asked.

I nodded quickly, not meeting his eyes. If I looked at him now, I might not be able to continue forward with the plan.

"Everything's ready."


	23. Chapter 22

**DesertedMirage Says: **Thank you for your review, **dispatcher652**. I do apologize for the huge delay in posting this. It takes me a little longer to write these final chapters because of the detail involved.

* * *

Objective one: Secure Zeke's office and establish a central control station.

It had been roughly an hour and a half now since I'd sneaked out through my window and began the operation. It was enough time to allow the plan to fully develop, as well as enough for my father or Zeke to begin to suspect trouble.

A meeting of four elite agents, standing around a table with a single light overhead in Axis' dark office. I never would have dreamed I'd be fighting alongside an assassin, a CIA-turned-underworld agent, and Batman. All were suited, each of us ready for action.

"First we need to interrupt the communications between Zeke and the prison," I addressed the three others. "We'll also need to have someone stationed there who can reply that all is well. Everything's been locked down, except for the rest of the living quarters, where most of the staff should be asleep. An isolated emergency alarm needs to go off to empty the building, but it can't go off in my father's room. According to the building's exit plan, they'll go by default to the basement."

"Got it, McGinnis and I will take care of it," supplied Axis.

"We'll have to get the communication with the prison started relatively quickly, since it's been almost an hour and Zeke's sure to check in soon, if he hasn't already," Terry highlighted.

"He hasn't," Luna inserted. "I was already checking on my own computer. But you're forgetting one thing, India."

"Oh?"

"The mansion security," she puffed a sigh. "But I've already handled it."

"So what's the second objective?" asked Axis, folding his arms over his chest.

"Once the entire island is on lockdown and regular communications are being made with Zeke, we call the authorities and arrange an ambush," I replied.

"So juvenile," scoffed Luna.

"Well what's your plan, then?" I snapped.

"Explosives, of course! Take the place down," she shrugged.

I frowned.

_Not with my father here. I won't take this that far._

"What good would that be?" I debated tartly.

"Look," Axis interrupted before a fight could ensue. "Neither of those will work. All we need to do is turn in the leaders. A surrender."

Terry shared a glance with me from across the table.

"All of them, or just _two_?" Terry pressed his palms on the tabletop. "I understand you're third-in-command, Vinelli," he implied.

"Look, McGinnis, I've agreed to help," Axis answered shortly, unable to look at his rival. "The rest will be dealt with when it comes--"

Terry opened his mouth to retort, but I quickly interjected.

"Okay, listen. We don't have time to debate the ending anymore. Right now we need to secure the island before we're found out." I exhaled shakily as they stared and listened. There were four different ideas for a final objective on the table, and even I was keeping my own secret plan from Terry. I had foolishly thought it would be easier than this for us to agree on something. But now all we had time for was to take action and play the rest by ear. "I think we should be split up into two teams, since it wouldn't be as safe for us to be a stationary target. Terry and Axis, Luna and I."

With at least the beginning of our plan agreed upon, we proceeded to objective one.

* * *

Zeke's office was empty, and we guessed he was in his living quarters. Terry and Axis said they would check to be sure while on their way to the prison wing.

I stepped inside Zeke's office with the others after Axis had disabled the lock with his passkey. The black and white office was lifeless and frigid. As always when in there, I shivered with discomfort, and proceeded quickly to the desk. I searched it for the button I wanted. Once I'd found it, I pressed it, and a black wooden panel on the back wall slid open to reveal an expansive computer system and monitor, much like the Batcomputer.

"Looks familiar," Terry noted quietly to me as Luna poured herself a drink at the bar. Axis stood broodingly at the window.

"Exactly." I smiled up at Terry, then quickly looked away as I was reminded of my bargain with Luna. The only reason I hadn't broken down yet was adrenaline and denial. I couldn't tell myself that I might not ever see him again, not now, not when we were so close to freeing him.

"His brandy's always the absolute _worst_," Luna mourned after she downed a shot of her drink. "Would you like anything, love?" she asked Axis sweetly, but he declined with a silent shake of his head.

"Okay, everything still looks good," I sighed after checking the security status and viewing cameras of various angles of the mansion, offices and prison. "I've got the communication established with an override on Zeke's personal communicator, so you and Axis are good to go check things out with Zeke and the prison."

Terry nodded. "Max, are there any international angels?"

"There are," I answered slowly. "But I don't think they would be a problem at the moment. My dad kept all of this pretty local, but he has accomplices and clients worldwide. None of them are our angels, but they do work with my dad and he has money invested and high stakes…"

Terry noticed the dark traces in my voice, guessing the end of the story for my father without me saying it. "Don't worry, Max."

I smiled vaguely for a short moment, then sighed. "So I guess you'd better be going."

I felt miserable when Terry was gone with Axis. Luna was easily the last person I wanted to be alone with on an island that was about to self-destruct.

"Honestly, India, do you really believe Axis is so head over heels for you that he's actually going to follow through with your plan?"

My narrowed eyes rolled loathingly to Luna, who was propped comfortably on the sofa. I held my tongue for the sake of my temper.

"You do know that I'm the only captured agent who was never brainwashed, don't you?" she carried forth. "We were like polar opposites, Axis and I. He was so…good, when he came." Her tone was softening slightly as she spoke of him, and she stared off into space as though I wasn't there. "I still don't know exactly why that made me like him. I wanted him to be able to obey without the serum, like I had. I didn't need it because I was already willing to work. But Axis… He got here just about a year after I finished training. We hated each other," she laughed softly, uncharacteristically. "But soon we needed each other…and he became the only reason for me. Sometimes I thought my obsession was ridiculous, because I don't believe in people or love. But Axis was the only one. Nothing else is real, to me. Only Axis."

I gazed sadly at the desk I sat before, the black coated wood. Behind me were the monitors, showing the underworld headquarters I was in the process of destroying. The headquarters that had separated Terry and I, the one which threatened to do so again.

"You may not believe it, but your love isn't the only one in existence," I spoke my words hopelessly.

Luna, as I expected, only smirked. "You really should have lived your life independent of silly fairytales and sentimental delusions, Gibson. You would have been much happier, and we might not have been mortal enemies," she spoke casually.

"No," I sighed. "I've tried that already, and it failed."

Minutes transpired on the clock as Terry and Axis were carrying out their mission. The entire island was soon under our control, with the mansion staff held hostage in the basement (which had been locked) and the guards unconscious or trapped. Terry and Axis also reported back via communicator that Zeke's living quarters were empty, although his car was still on the island. We needed to track him down…as well as my father. I worried that they might have caught on and were up to something.

I checked the security camera outside of my father's office. Just as I suspected, there was movement, the door shutting as a shadowed figure entered.

"Curious," noted Luna as she sat with one leg crossed over the other on the desk, tilting her head to see the monitor I was looking at.

"I'll check it out." I rose to leave.

"Ah, ah, ah, what happened to 'teamwork,' India?" Luna questioned accusingly.

I turned to glower at her. "If you're _that_ worried I'll leave the island without our battle, then you should just keep track of me on the monitor behind you," I gestured to the computer. "We don't have to be chained together."

* * *

"Where are you going?" asked Terry's voice in the ear of my cowl as I maneuvered the still hallways to my father's office.

"Someone's in my dad's office," I answered.

"Be careful, Max."

"I will," I whispered before reaching out to open the door, muscles braced for whatever may lay inside.

It was dark, but before I activated my infrared vision, I was able to make out the desk, the chair, and the man seated there.

While I was relieved that it wasn't Zeke, as I'd originally suspected, I also felt my heart make a crash landing into my stomach.

I hadn't wanted to make this confrontation so soon.

I removed my mask, moving with heavy steps toward the desk. I paused when I was a few feet away. I had so much to say, and felt suddenly as I had when I first faced my father upon arriving at the headquarters. As much as I was angry with him, as real as his trespasses against me were, it was almost over now. And I had to speak up.

"You probably know by now what we're doing."

My father didn't respond to my voice, and only sat with his faced tilted down, hands clasped on his desk. I remembered those hands, how I used to place my small ones inside his when I was a child, and marvel at the difference.

I swallowed back my fear, the reserve of the serum that had silenced my voice for far too long.

"I want you to come with me," I revealed fervently, and immediately felt the pressure lifting. "And maybe…maybe confess - I think they'll go easier on you if you do."

He didn't move.

I continued.

"I just don't want to fight you… I don't want you to be my enemy…you're my _dad_. And I love you. Even though I tried to run from it and hate you, I can't. And sometimes I think you were so cold just to get me to hate you, to make me numb and unable to love…because this feels so much worse - it hurts more to love…and yet I'd rather I did. I can't be that person who pushes love and feelings away anymore. I can't follow in your footsteps anymore."

My warm tears turned to ice on my cheeks. Neither of us said a word for a long, painful moment. Why couldn't he just talk to me, look at me…_something_?

I sighed miserably.

"I don't want to leave here without you. I don't want you to stay and end up…" I was unable to finish the dreaded sentence. "Please come with me, Dad."

He tensed very slightly, this time. But he didn't look up. It was as though my every word was widening the gap between us, and I slowly began to realize that it was pointless.

I shut my eyes on the stinging tears, swallowed back my heartache, and turned to walk away. I had to move forward, even if I was alone.

But I was leaving a piece of my heart behind.

* * *

I needed to hear Terry's voice as I made my way back to Zeke's office. I needed to be reminded of why I was doing all of this, because my resolve was beginning to crumble.

"Terry, come in," I said softly. No answer sounded on the communicator.

Before I spoke again, I felt a strange sensation behind me…as though I wasn't alone.

Cautiously, I turned. The dark stretch of hallways seemed to be empty, but I could have sworn I had detected a shadow that hadn't been there before.

My fingers hovered near my temple, debating whether or not to use my heat sensors.

_I should get back to the office and see what's going on with the communication feed._

I decided to keep forward. I attempted to reach Terry or Axis again once I had turned the corner. I kept glancing over my shoulder, feeling uneasy. I still hadn't gotten a reply on the feed.

I opened the door of Zeke's office and hurried inside. Luna sat up from where she was posted at the desk with her feet propped. "Have fun?"

I ignored her sarcasm and strode up to the computer.

"The feed with the prison is out. I'm going to try and see if I can contact them from the computer."

"Maybe your communicator's malfunctioning." She shrugged.

From the main computer, I tapped into the communication channel of the prison. "Terry, Axis, come in."

Nothing.

I frowned.

Luna left to drop into the couch with a sigh.

Grumbling, I tried to think of what to do next.

"Did you hear anything from them while I was gone?"

Luna merely shook her head.

I paused to think for just a moment, then headed for the door.

"_Now _where are you going?" questioned Luna, clearly annoyed.

"To see what's happened with them." I halted, my hand touching the doorknob. It wouldn't be wise to leave Luna alone with at the central command station while I was on the other wing of the island. "And you're coming with me."

Luna snorted. "Please."

"If not," I said icily, turning to glare at her, "then you can forget our deal."

Luna's unmasked face was unreadable, and she finally stood and pulled on her cowl. I opened the door and we set off for the prison.

I took the lead toward the back exit of the mansion, which led to the other half of the island, the training quarters and prison. We moved freely through the empty building, since all of the staff were held hostage. Although my thoughts were devoted to reaching Terry, I found myself feeling a bit uptight with Luna. She seemed to be making a point to walk behind me, although I had tried to slow my pace several times to keep us in each other's sights. I tried not to let it worry me - after all, we had agreed to cooperate as long as I held up my end of the bargain, which I would do. That should have been enough for her.

We arrived at the exit. I pulled out my passkey to scan it across the sensor.

ACCESS DENIED.

My brow creased in confusion. My key had never failed to work before.

Sighing, I tried fingertip recognition instead.

ACCESS DENIED.

I ran my tongue along my teeth, trying to curb my worrying.

"Let's try the front door in the ballroom and walk around the grounds to the back," I suggested, and Luna followed along silently.

As we made the trek back across the mansion to the front entrance of the ballroom, I noticed how much Luna's silence was beginning to trouble me. As much as her arrogance irked me, it was at least normal and _expected_…but this quietness was just strange, and I was a little afraid.

"This should work," I sighed as we stood before the tall wooden doors in the ballroom.

My passkey was a success, this time, and I exhaled in relief. I reached to pull the door open, but instead of feeling the rush of the nighttime air in my face, I was confronted with a solid sheet of metal.

"What in the…?" I gawked, then began to push on the metal. It felt like layers of steel.

_We've been sealed in…_

Trying not to panic, I hurried to a window. I pulled back the curtains and lifted the glass. Another metal barrier. I tried another, ending up with the same result.

"Someone's activated the emergency shield…" I said quietly, then punched my fist into the metal wall behind the front door.

_I can't get to Terry… I need to find a way out. The plan is failing!_

"Maybe we can break out through the windows in the offices, overlooking the lake," I reasoned with a heavy sigh, then turned.

But Luna stood unmoving, blocking my path. I sidestepped, she mirrored.

"The windows up there are sealed as well, India. The whole building is closed." She slowly pulled out her black machete. "You're trapped."

My eyes moved down to the weapon. I tried to keep my voice calm and steady. "Then so are you."

Luna chuckled darkly. "Don't change the subject. Time to hold to your end of the deal."

"This is no deal," I seethed, squeezing my fists closed. "This is a trap."

Luna shrugged her shoulders carelessly. "Maybe. It was fun while it lasted."

"Who put you up to it? There's no way you could have done this alone."

"_I _did, India."

The voice crackled from the ear of my cowl.

_Zeke!_

"And I'd already had a deal with Luna, so naturally, it took precedence over yours. Hope you understand."

"Where are you?!" I demanded.

Zeke laughed in amusement. "Oh, just having some fun with Batman."

The feed snapped off.

* * *

"Did you hear back from her yet?"

"No. And I think I'm going over there to check on her."

"Not without me, McGinnis."

Terry eyed Axis briefly, then moved up the steps of the central prison tower to the door. Outside were the sniper stations and bridges, where the summer storm was reaching its climax.

Terry was first to reach the door, and when he tried to disable the lock to no avail, Axis intervened.

"Does your keycard work on all of the locks?" Terry asked when Axis had tried twice with no success.

Axis nodded with certainty. "It's a master key."

Terry sighed impatiently. Every second was precious time wasted, and he had an increasing fear that something had gone wrong. I hadn't responded to any of his attempts to reach me on the communicator.

"Here, just step aside," Terry grumbled.

Axis frowned indignantly. "While you do what?"

"I don't know - try to break it open or something!"

"And crush your shoulder? It's solid steel, McGinnis!"

"Got a better idea, Vinelli?"

"I don't know, explosives or something--"

"Yeah, good one, bring the whole tower down on us, why don't you?"

"Look, I'm just as concerned about her as you are and--"

"Oh yeah?" Terry's eyes narrowed. "You've known her for three out of the twenty-one years I have and you think you--"

The two were swiftly interrupted by a screeching sound below. Immediately on guard, they dropped the matter to see what had caused the sound.

Axis jogged ahead of Terry, but they reached the bottom of the steps at the same time.

"Sir!" said Axis in bewilderment.

My father was closing a panel on the prison floor, which instantly blended in with the stone. He brushed off his soiled clothes and turned to the two staring open-mouthed at him.

"Looks like you could use some help," he stated with a business-like sigh. "That is, if you're willing to cooperate."


	24. Chapter 23

**DesertedMirage Says:** Thank you as always, **dispatcher652 **and **ohgodofwriting, **as well as everyone else reading and following this.

* * *

_12:49 AM_

I sprinted for the staircase, and Luna quickly followed with sword in hand. I was halfway to the top of the steps when a coil wrapped around my ankles. I grasped frantically for the banister, but was jerked backwards. I rolled across the ground as the wielding machete brushed my arm. A shred of my suit was left behind, and a cut smarted on my skin. I ran for one of the marble columns, and barely managed to duck as Luna's machete slashed for my neck. The column behind me was chopped in half.

I dragged myself to my feet and darted behind another column. When Luna swung this time, her sword became wedged into the marble. She grunted as she strained to remove it, and I swiftly took advantage of the moment to ram her with my shoulder. She was abuptly on her feet again, and powerfully slammed me to the floor. But I caught my fall with a handspring, and kicked her as I rose up.

The ballroom was disintegrating around us, the walls rattling and ceiling crumbling with every bodyslam and tackle. Pillars toppled, chandeliers shattered. The ballroom's majestic staircase was soon nothing more than a pile of jagged lumber and torn carpet.

Luna unleashed a stream of batarangs from her wrist, but I swung from one of the window draperies to a balcony. Livid, she frowned up at me and fired again. The razor-sharp objects trailed behind me as I flew the perimeter of the room, missing my form by mere inches. The moment she paused to reload, I planted my feet into the balcony railing and launched toward her.

* * *

_12: 54 AM_

"You mean to say Zeke's controlling the whole place?"

"All but this bunker. Your only way to escape is the tunnel down here. It leads to ocean cliffs and a small beach. There are three jet skis there. All of the building exits have been sealed. We'll have to hurry and get to Max, because the mansion's sealed as well," my father answered Terry's question.

"So you think he's going to blow it up?" Terry asked anxiously as he walked alongside Axis and my father through the dark passageways inside the island's underground.

My dad sighed as he pulled at the collar of his mud-spattered white shirt. "That's what I found in the note on my desk when I got into my office. Zeke's activated the emergency shield which shuts down the entire island. We installed it for if there was ever an attack. Unless Zeke deactivates the shield, the only way out is through the tunnels down here. Zeke doesn't know about this - it was already here on the island when we bought the estate. But when I found it, I kept it a secret and decided to use it as a backdoor of sorts. This is our only escape, but we've got to get Max out of the mansion." His voice lowered glumly. "I have a feeling that's where Zeke's hiding."

"I can break through the shield with explosives--" Axis volunteered readily.

"That might be too dangerous. It could set off the bombs already there," Terry returned in a grumble.

Dad nodded. "Terry's right. Zeke's got bombs planted in every building, and it would only add more danger to use more. But I can try to override them from his office," my father assured as they arrived at a three-way crossroads in the damp channels. "The branch to the left leads to the mansion." He pointed. "I'll try to disable the bombs from the building, but I'll need the entire island evacuated as well."

"We've trapped the staff in the basement, but the guards are scattered and tranquilized," Axis explained.

"Can you get them all down here and off of the island, Axis? You'll have to pack them onto life rafts, and there are only a few."

"I can do it."

"And Terry," my father turned, "can you accompany me to my office?"

Terry nodded resolutely, his only concern being getting me out of danger.

The two men parted with Axis, who took the tunnel on the left as Terry and my father hurried the opposite way.

It was a quieter trip now that Axis was gone and the plan had been established. Both men were silent, yet tense, equally worried and focused on their task. Terry kept his eyes ahead of him, but soon noticed my father glancing over.

"I know there's a lot you'd like to know," Dad said carefully. "And I know we don't have much time at the moment."

Terry shook his head slowly as they hurriedly plodded through a portion of wet, uneven ground. "I just want Max to be safe, and I think we can both agree on that for now."

My father stumbled a bit at that moment, but Terry reached out to help him up.

"Thanks," Dad said. "And you're right that we agree on that… I lied to Max, though, Terry."

Terry looked over with his brow furrowed.

"I don't know how much you know about the serum that Max was given. And I'm not saying this to excuse myself…but I know what she was going through, with her opinions and voice being stifled," he hesitated as they kept forward. "What I didn't tell her was that I had been receiving serum as well. Telling her the truth was hard for me - not only would it make me feel even more hypocritical, but it was also hard physically…because of the mind-control."

Terry listened silently, taking the unexpected information in. It consoled him some, to hear that my father hadn't totally betrayed me, as he had initially thought.

"How are you fighting it now?" he asked.

"That's my daughter up there," Dad explained straightforwardly. "Even though I may have failed before, she's not getting trapped here again."

The two shared a glance, and Terry nodded.

The tunnel twisted off to a dead-end bearing a rusted iron ladder leading to a trap door.

"That's my office entrance, where I came from just now."

"Do you think Zeke is controlling things from his office?"

Dad shook his head, looking doubtful. "No. He doesn't boast many fighting skills. He wouldn't be hiding somewhere you would expect him to be, and wouldn't risk a battle with you."

"So maybe a hidden location? Maybe he's not the only one with secrets on the island," Terry suggested.

"I don't really know where Zeke is." Dad shrugged with a frustrated sigh.

They climbed the ladder and stood in my father's office. After checking to ensure that they were alone, they decided on their next move.

"I'll go to Zeke's office now. If I'm wrong and he is there…" Dad raised his shoulders in a shrug. "I can handle him if he wants a fight."

But Terry frowned at the idea. "I can go with you."

"Terry. You need to get to Max and get her out of here. I have to disable the bombs."

Terry nodded, then slid on his cowl and turned to leave.

"Terry, before you go…"

He paused.

"I have this…for Max," Dad spoke, holding out to Terry a leather-bound book from inside his desk. "I'd appreciate if you gave it to her on my behalf… She would understand."

Terry looked at the book, then nodded reassuringly as he accepted it and tucked it securely into his utility belt.

"I will," he promised, then began to walk off again. "Um," he faltered before exiting, chewing nervously at his lip. "Sir…Mr. Gibson?"

My dad looked up.

Terry rubbed his neck, transferring his weight from foot to foot. "Um…I wanted to ask you--being her father and all--if…um…now that we're both older and…I wanted to ask for Max's--uh…if I could…I mean, if _she and I…_could…"

Dad smiled.

* * *

_1:39 AM_

"Sir?"

"Did you get everyone out?"

Axis nodded as he paced inside the office, rubbing his sore shoulder. "I see Zeke's not here. Has McGinnis found India yet?"

Dad shook his head while returning his focus to the expansive computer behind Zeke's desk. "Terry just left, but Zeke's been here since Max and Luna were. There was another message on this desk. He's got our plan figured out."

Axis slammed his fist into his palm. "If he'd only just show himself instead of hide like a coward…" he muttered in an angry tone.

My father looked at his apprentice, understanding his unrest. "I'm grateful, Axis…that you're helping."

Axis nodded quietly, staring at the floor.

"Are the bombs disabled yet?"

Dad sighed dejectedly. "No. He's set up an encrypted code," he hesitated, scraping his hand over his closely cropped hair. "I haven't been able to crack it."

Axis looked up, his eyes widened. "Is there a timer on the bombs?"

Dad confirmed with a reluctant nod.

"How long…?" Axis frowned worriedly.

"One hour."

* * *

_1:46 AM_

Terry sprinted the wood-paneled hallways of the sprawling mansion, urgently searching for a ballroom entrance. He knew that Zeke could be lurking anywhere, and kept his eyes peeled for danger. He saw the blackness on each window, the metal shield swallowing up the building and closing off the exits. The lights flickered from the storm, but the rumble of thunder and winds couldn't pierce the battened-down estate.

Finally, he began to hear heavy thudding and commotion from below, and rushed to follow the sound. Traversing the walkways and passing the balcony where the two of us had reunited, he came upon an iron stairwell. He ignored the steps and hurdled each banister to the bottom. Terry found himself in another hallway, apparently on the ground level. The noise was louder now, coming from a set of doors at the end of the hall. He pulled on the handles of the double doors with all of his might, but they wouldn't budge.

Grunting, Terry kept trying.

* * *

_1:50 AM_

I hurled a punch into Luna's jaw, and she stumbled backwards. While she was down, she swiped up a dagger-shaped wooden rod from the debris. Before I could react, I was pounded into the only pillar left standing. I struggled for a moment, but ultimately failed to break free. My energy had deplenished, and my muscles were weak with fatigue.

"Looks like you've switched places with Batman again," she snarled. "But you have no one to save you, like he did. No one to jump in and take the hit. And while I may have been off by a hair before, I won't miss this time.

"This is _so_ reminiscent of that rooftop fight three years ago," Luna ranted on as I twisted to break loose. "Don't you remember it, India? The perfectly clear sky, the nighttime air, the fight you, McGinnis and I had! It was all so perfect." Her voice darkened. "But it was ruined when I failed. Assassins aren't supposed to fail, India." She leered. "But what you probably don't know is that I was _planning_ on killing you one way or another, even though that wasn't your Daddy's orders. I was going to take care of Batman first, like an obedient guardian angel, and then kill you. That's why I used two bullets that night. I didn't care if your stupid father would punish me for it. I was ready to leave then, just like I am now."

"Without Axis?" I combated. "You're forgetting that you're leaving him behind by joining Zeke! Do you think he wants to help you, Luna? Don't you get that he'll kill all of us? Zeke's using you!"

Luna's eyes narrowed to slits as she glowered in hatred. "You're just as selfish as I am. All you want is to accuse me when _you're _trying to get your beloved Terry out of here alive! Well I'm not letting you go without finishing my job so that Axis will never have to be plagued by you anymore!" She sneered with warped glee. "He can't exactly be in love with a dead person, now can he?"

"Let her go!"

_Terry?_

Standing with fists clamped together, crouched and leaned forward in attack-mode was Terry. He had busted through one of the doors to the right of where I was posted.

My heart leapt to see that he was alive, but I wasn't sure of how either of us would escape this time.

Luna was instantly laughing.

"Oh, now _this_ is fun!" she exclaimed, still holding me firm with the pointed sharp weapon aimed for my throat. "How much more perfect could this get? I have Batman, the lover of my arch rival, trying to convince me to let her go. The other one I failed to kill in my mission has arrived."

"This isn't a game, Luna," Terry spoke with controlled anger, not wanting to cause her to act hastily. "Just let her go, and we'll leave you alone."

Luna's dark, almond eyes rolled in annoyance. "You're right, it isn't a game. It's life. It's vengeance. And it's time for Maxine Gibson to face it."

I began to choke when she suddenly squeezed my throat with her fingers.

"I think I'd like to use this method as opposed to bloodshed," Luna mused casually as she watched me. "It's so much neater."

"Luna, please!" Terry was begging now, unconsciously stepping forward. "Look, I-I can't lose her again! If you want to take someone out, then let it be me! Here I am! I'm Batman, _I'm _the enemy! It was never about Max!"

_No, Terry, don't…_

My vision was beginning to darken when oxygen failed to reach my head as Luna's grip tightened.

"You don't really love her, McGinnis. There is no such thing."

"There is! Why else do you think I came here! Why else would I be willing to die?"

Luna glanced at Terry, beginning to show the faintest pain in her eyes.

"You're wrong!" she denied it, although her voice was catching. "No one deserves to believe a lie…maybe not even Gibson here. Think of it as a favor!"

"Just because you got hurt doesn't mean love doesn't exist, Luna. You can let her go. We won't be in your way anymore. Either that or you can take me instead. I'm ready and willing."

_Terry…please!_

Before my view of Luna's face blurred, I barely saw a wetness in her eyes. My next sensation was the floor, which caught me like a weight. But there was a sound before I fell, a ripping pop…an explosion.

"Luna!" someone shouted, but it wasn't Terry.

"Luna, talk to me!" he was pleading, reminding me of the way Terry had begged for my life when I lay wounded in his arms on the Gotham rooftop that separated us three years ago.

And then I was held in a pair of strong arms, and slowly began to open my eyes.

"Terry," I whispered, trying to regain consciousness.

"She won't ever be doing that again, I'm afraid," came a menacing voice. "Although I'm sure we're all relieved to be free of that oh-so annoying sarcasm of hers. Too bad she believed me. Now move to the wall like good little children."

I was lifted, and we were moving.

"It's okay, Max," a voice whispered close to my ear. Terry.

I finally opened my eyes. I saw the blue angel emblem on the suit I had given him to wear, then his unmasked face staring coldly ahead. I followed his gaze to see Zeke with a gun trained onto us. Just to the left stood Axis, looking distraught and also unmasked. And on the ground, off to the side, was Luna…in a motionless heap.

"Now, I'll try not to belabor this, so you can thank me for that." Zeke smirked. "It is amazing, though, how easily I accomplished it all. Naturally, I had a way of escape," he grinned haughtily. "I left myself an opening in the prison. You see, I was tracking you through the air ducts, India. I know your fascination with the rooftops and decided to leave one duct void of the emergency shield, so that I could escape," he divulged, then sighed. "But alas, Luna's done with, the explosions are about to take place, and I have just enough bullets left for each of you. The bombs will take care of your father, India. I do apologize that I wasn't able to get him to be here with you at this…" he searched for the word, calmly stroking his chin, "_difficult_ time."

"You won't get away with it," Terry vowed ardently.

Zeke chuckled mockingly. "And that's exactly what I'd expect Batman to say in his final moment. Goodbye."

Zeke's face winced in shock and anguish, then he was suddenly blank, standing open-mouthed. The gun slowly slipped from his fingers, falling to the marble ballroom floor.

We looked on as his knees buckled and body collapsed forward, revealing behind him Luna, who removed her black machete from his back with an expert maneuver.

She wiped the blood from the blade with her usual cool, conceited composure, then tucked it into her side and strode slowly up to Axis, who was dumbfounded.

She didn't speak, but only touched his face and kissed his lips sincerely. She looked into his eyes one last time, then turned. Her eyes found mine for the shortest moment, but I knew that whatever hatred that was once there was gone.

With a toss of her long, brown hair, Luna walked off through the ruins, and out the door Terry had demolished.

* * *

_2:19 AM_

"We only have about twenty minutes before the bombs go off," Axis took command. "I don't think your dad was able to disarm them."

"Then we'll have to hurry back to the passageway--" Terry took my arm, but I didn't move.

"What about my dad?"

Axis sighed. "He's in Zeke's office. I'll go back up and get him out," he paused, seeing the fear on my face. "I promise he'll escape. Now both of you hurry and get down there to the tunnel!"

Recovered from my brush with suffocation earlier, I kept up with Terry as we dashed to the underground passageway, which he explained to me along the way. Down the ladder we climbed, from my father's empty office to the underground tunnels.

A light gleamed from the end of the cavern, reflecting from the dim overhead lighting. Finally, the metal door leading out - and beside it, two jet skis were waiting.

I frowned worriedly, patting my utility belt. "I don't have my key! It must've dropped back there--"

"No worries," Terry ensured while sliding out a keycard from his belt. Once the door was opened, we pushed the ski out across the small sandy beach cut into the side of the cliff at the island's base.

Terry fired up the engine, and we hopped on and flew across the water. The storm had died down significantly, leaving only a delicate sprinkling of rain from the patches of plum-colored clouds. The moon illuminated our path toward the dazzling Gotham City skyline on the horizon.

"How much longer before the bombs go off?" I asked, feeling the dread in my stomach as I anxiously scanned the horizon for the other jet-ski.

_They should be right behind us, where are they?_

"Should be happening any minute now," Terry replied, but added decidedly after a pause, "I'm pretty sure they got out. I think they took Zeke's escape plan through the prison, because it would have been faster from where they were located."

I didn't answer, but prayed he was right.

Not much time had passed before the water was alight, bathed in orange. An earth-rattling eruption exploded from the vanishing island behind us, sacrificing a cloud of smoke into the sky.

I hugged my arms tighter around Terry's waist as he throttled forward, pressing my cheek against his back as I looked at the island I once called home. I watched it burn for a long time, the once majestic mansion now a skeleton of raging flames and melted steel. I couldn't speak.

We had done it - I had prevailed over my captors, and this signified it all. The most painful chapter of my life had been closed, and Terry McGinnis was still at my side.

"I love you, Max," Terry called back to me over the purring engine of the craft and sloshing waves.

I finally turned my eyes away from the burning building. I closed my eyes and let the wind whip at my face, and the remaining raindrops to slide down my cheeks and combine with my tears.

"I love you too, Terry."

******************


	25. Chapter 24

**DesertedMirage Says: ** I think writers can sometimes lose the fun in what they do. I have to remind myself to enjoy it sometimes. But I did enjoy this - I hope that you do as well. Thank you so much for reading. **distpatcher652, RedSharkBait (yes, explosions are a must for me haha), **you already know how much I really appreciate you. Thank you to everyone reading. All of your questions will be answered.

Almost done!

* * *

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just feeling a little dizzy."

But I was actually exhausted; my head was heavy and muscles drained of energy. Together, Terry and I entered the familiar corridors of the Batcave. Water droplets echoed in the distance, ricocheting from the rock walls, and there could be heard the gentle flapping of wings.

"Welcome home, Batgirl," Terry said.

It was like stepping inside of a dream; all was exactly as I pictured it to be. The bridge stretching over the twinkling underground lake, the shards of moonlight piercing the ceiling, the jagged stalagmites and flourishing bats.

I could only sigh.

"I remember when I first came here," I whispered to Terry while we walked with arms around each other. "When you brought me because Bruce wanted to speak with me." I voiced slowly, allowing the memories to resurface.

Terry laughed softly as he rubbed my arm. "And how much you hated getting up early for training."

I smiled. "I remember that."

We continued through the metal doors that led into the main quarters, where there stood the glass costume cases and the constant blue glow of the Batcomputer. The chair before it was empty, and I looked around expectantly.

"You should sit," Terry insisted when my weight shifted.

"I guess." I sighed as he directed me to the seat at his desk beside the Batcomputer.

I didn't realize just how weak I really was until my legs melted into the chair and my muscles slowly recalled how to relax. It felt as though it would be ages before I could move them again, at least not until I'd let them rest for a few days.

Terry began to prepare some coffee, and I dropped my head into my hands as a new wave of fatigue set in.

"Make it strong for me, please Ter," I groaned.

"Caffeine's the last thing you need."

"I know, but I want to be awake to see Bru--"

A door closed, snipping my sentence. I pulled up my head to see.

The white haired man was steadily making his way down the stairway cut into the wall, poking his cane along the floor. His movements were a little slower now, more careful. But he held the same austere expression on his hard face, and though years had passed since I'd seen him, to me, he didn't look any older.

"I got her home safely, old man," Terry chuckled.

I rose up, forgetting my tiredness as I ran to envelop my mentor in a hug.

I couldn't see through the tears that escaped me, but Terry later told me that he'd spotted a smile on the former Batman's face.

* * *

We discussed the escape from the island, explaining to Bruce the details. But no matter how many times I blinked to clear the heaviness on my eyelids, I was soon fast asleep.

When I awoke again, it was in a dark room, lit only by a window. It must have been dusk or raining outside, but it was very comforting. I was wrapped in heavy, cozy blankets with a distinctive warm scent. I pulled the bedding closer to my face as I closed my eyes again.

There was another period of sleep, dreams with no meaning, and the sweet numbness of rest. When the slumber began to wear away, I heard the click of a door softly closing. I opened my eyes and looked around me. The messy clothes-strewn floor, the disorganized desk. Yes, this was Terry's room.

I smiled. I turned to the bedside table, to read the time on the clock. But I was staring instead at something else.

_My diary?_

I hadn't seen the leather-bound book in so long…not since my father had taken it away from me.

Before I could read the first page, a piece of paper slipped out onto the blankets. It was hand-written, a note in my father's script.

I propped myself on my elbow and began to read:

_To My Beloved Daughter,_

_Max, I can only hope that you'll read this note, although you have every right and plenty of reasons not to. When I took this diary away from you, I was thinking that I was protecting you. Everything I did was an attempt to protect you, as strange as that sounds. I never told you, but I knew what you were going through with the serum, as I had been receiving it since they made me president. I don't say that to excuse myself, but to tell you the truth you deserve to know about me, and to apologize to you. Nothing turned out the way I wanted it to after I left you, your beautiful mother and Alicia to look for work. I love each of you dearly, and that has never changed and never will. I only hope you are able to move on unaffected by your father's shortcomings._

_Love,_

_Dad_

My cheeks were wet when I reached the end of the letter, and I replaced it carefully inside of the book. I was blank for a moment, frozen. But then I began to remember my father sitting motionless behind his desk when I'd asked him to come with me, and I envisioned the empty waters behind Terry and I, the exploding building…

I didn't know yet if he had gotten out, none of us did.

The door opened cautiously, and Terry's head poked in."Oh, sorry, did I wake you?" he asked, looking as though he hadn't expected me to be awake.

I shook my head, trying to smile and laugh it off, but my voice was trapped in my throat.

Terry frowned and slowly walked inside. "Are you okay, Max?" he asked softly, then saw what was in my hands.

I nodded, but was unconvincing when the tears streamed afresh. Terry rushed to gather me into his arms as I cried into his collar.

* * *

I stayed at Terry's apartment, with his family, for the rest of that day. Bruce thought it would be safer that way, while he located my father and Axis.

I sat alone in Terry's room, sitting on the bed with my legs crossed and flipping through my diary. Terry had left to meet with Bruce at the Batcave. I had offered to come as well, but I was told I needed to lay low for a while.

I read a few entries about Alicia and my mom, Chelsea and Dana. I had forgotten many of the things I said in the diary after it was confiscated, and found myself smiling as I poured through the memories.

I hadn't seen anyone yet, except for Terry, Mrs. McGinnis (who enfolded me with a tearful hug), Matt and Bruce. It was difficult to wait to see everyone, especially my mom. She was the one I hadn't seen in the longest time, because she had been away working in New York when I was Batgirl and kidnapped.

I delicately touched one of the portraits I'd sketched of her in the pages, moving my fingers to trace the smile I'd fought to remember.

There was a quiet knock on the door at that moment. I closed the book and set it aside.

"Come in," I said, expecting to see Mrs. McGinnis, who had been wonderful in making sure I was well-fed and supplied with books and things to do to pass the time.

But a dark head of hair appeared when the door opened, and my immediate thought was Alicia, with the long, wavy hair and rich brown complexion. I was close, but not quite…

I jumped up to wrap my arms around her.

"Max, do you have any idea how much I missed you?" Mom said with a joyful laugh through her tears.

"Do you have any idea how much I missed _you_?"

Mom and I spent the remainder of the afternoon chatting and catching up (Mrs. McGinnis joining in at one point before leaving for her job). However, when conversation drifted to Alicia, I wasn't able to get much information out of my mother.

"So where is she? What's going on with her? You've got to tell me," I exclaimed excitedly, but Mom smiled sneakily from where she sat on the end of the bed.

"Well, she's doing fine," she answered slowly.

"'Fine' as in graduated, pursuing some fashion design career…married?" I wiggled my eyebrows with a broad grin.

Mom chuckled. "Well, I'll just say that she's married."

I gasped, clamping a hand over my mouth. "I shouldn't be so shocked, I guess - it's been three years. But I just…I don't know," I shrugged my shoulders while smiling sadly. "I wish I could've been there," I said softly.

Mom gave a knowing smile.

"Who is he?" I asked.

"That much I can't say," she replied with a laugh.

I lifted an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Mom nodded. "Terry's orders."

"C'mon Mom," I sighed, but she shook her head.

"He made me promise--all of us, as a matter of fact. He wants to surprise you…and Alicia."

"You mean she doesn't know about me yet?"

"She's on vacation right now, so Terry's decided to wait for her return."

I sighed once more. "Okay. I guess I can wait a little longer. Besides, I don't want to give her a heart-attack or anything…" My tone dropped. "I can't imagine what it was like for everyone, for you…"

Mom stared quietly down at her hands in her lap. "Probably the hardest part was the fact that I wasn't here when you needed me, Max," she admitted softly, her eyes moistening again. She wiped up at her tears with an apologetic chuckle.

I reached out to squeeze her hand. "I never forgot you when I was gone. Everyday I tried to think of how you would handle things, since you always knew what to do. I tried to grow up the way you would've liked me to…even checking the mirror to see if I was staring to look like you."

At this, she smiled.

"And," I added, reaching behind me to the diary on the pillow, sliding out a folded paper, "I picked up a new skill while I was at it."

Mom gazed down the paper I gave her, carefully unfolding it. "Oh Max…this is beautiful," she whispered upon sight of her portrait.

I beamed. "I drew it as soon as I could - I drew everyone, so that I wouldn't forget what you looked like... It was harder over time to remember things, so I kept a diary and taught myself how to draw."

"You made me so pretty."

"I think it's a perfect likeness." I smiled.

Mom laughed and pulled me into a hug.

* * *

"Hey, what's that you're watching?"

I turned to the front door of the McGinnis apartment, which had just opened. It was evening now, and my mom had left about an hour earlier.

"Shh, it's getting to the good part," I shushed Terry as I redirected my attention to the screen, where Hamilton Hill Principal Crawford was leaving the podium.

Terry moaned as he closed the door and walked over to where I was planted on the sofa.

"Why are you watching ancient embarrassing footage?" he asked quietly while standing behind the sofa and wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

I laughed as he kissed my cheek. "Because it's _very important_ footage that I should've been there to see live - especially since it says on the program that you gave a big speech."

He laughed quietly. "Okay, but I'll be in the kitchen grabbing dinner."

"Did you hear from them yet?" I asked before he left, holding his arm.

Terry shook his head. "No yet, but we've picked up their signal."

My entire body sighed with relief.

"Okay." I smiled. "Your mom left to grab some groceries, but there's some lasagna on the stove. You know, I forgot how amazing your mom's cooking is."

"Wow, must be some powerful serum, then!" Terry called from the kitchen.

I laughed, and the graduation ceremony continued on the monitor. Soon (against his word) Terry returned, sitting with me as I cuddled into his arms.

"Only for you," he whispered into my ear as his name was called and his seventeen-year-old self marched up to the podium.

We watched his speech, and several times throughout I had tearful moments where he would hold me tighter and kiss my hair. By the time it was over, my cheeks were soaked.

"I'm so proud of you, Terry," I told him sincerely.

"I wasn't really nervous," he revealed as I accepted the tissue he handed me.

"Well it's a good thing I wasn't there, that's for sure," I laughed while drying my eyes. "If it ruined me this much watching the _video_, imagine what I would've been like _in person_."

Terry grinned.

We sat through the rest of the ceremony, fast-forwarding to the procession across the stage for the diplomas. I watched as Mom and Alicia accepted mine for me, to which they received a round of respectful applause. And it was explained to the audience that plans were in the making to place a plaque in my honor in the library.

"This is incredible, Ter," I whispered when it was over. "I don't deserve all of that."

"You do," he disagreed strongly, raising my hand to his lips.

"What about you?" I turned to face him. "I never asked you where you went and what you're doing."

"College-wise?" he asked, then sighed. "Just general stuff…at Gotham U."

"Shway! What are you going to major in?"

Terry smiled sheepishly, his blue eyes flickering from mine to the floor. "Oh, I dunno'…"

I waited patiently, and he chewed his lip.

"Well…after what happened to you, I kinda' always wanted to help people - not just as Batman, you know? Something more personal. And I pretty much want to be a…doctor…I guess."

A smile slowly filled my face. "Terry, that is absolutely awesome. I'm convinced you'll make the best doctor ever - Dr. McGinnis."

He chuckled as I squeezed him in a hug. "I hope so. Hey, where's the twip, by the way?"

"He left shortly after your mom. Something about going off to chill with Amelia."

Terry's eyes rolled. "His crush."

I laughed. "I'm still getting used to it - _Matt_, a teenager?"

Terry sighed again, stretching his legs out onto the coffee table as I leaned against his warm, strong chest. "Yeah, 'the big thirteen' has gotten to his head."

"He's not that different from you, though," I cautioned with a grin. "I remember you at that age."

"Oh yeah?" he quizzed, lifting his eyebrows.

I snickered. "Of course," I began, folding my arms over his around my waist and playing with his watchband. "Let's see, you had just made up your mind to ask Blade out, but you quickly realized that Nelson had dibs on her already."

Terry winced. "Eh, yeah, whatever. That was a long time ago."

I smiled as we sat without speaking.

"I miss them. Even the people I didn't always get along with," I mused thoughtfully.

Terry nodded.

"I guess I can't tell them, or, well, I just don't really know how to handle being back…" I creased my brow. "Wait, don't they think I was in a wreck, as you told me?" I questioned.

"Well, they do…_most _of them." He sounded hesitant.

I frowned again, confused.

"Chelse knows our secret," Terry finally unfolded.

"No way! That's absolutely _incredible_! You mean Chelsea was in on it all along?"

Terry laughed at my reaction. "No, not quite _all_ along. I think she said she started to suspect something in senior year, because of the way we were behaving. But then she just confronted me on it once not long after graduation, and I just spilled. Oh, and she's the one who got me on Uptown."

I grinned. "Wow! Oh Ter, I'm really glad that you had someone in on it - and Chelsea, at that…" my sentence faded as I thought of my closest girlfriend, and how she was practically all to thank for why Terry and I had ever gotten together in the first place. "I want to see her. Does she know what's happened last night yet?"

"Not yet."

"Terry, you left her in the dark?"

"Not exactly!" he defended. "I mean, hey, I was only tranquilized and held prisoner in the past forty-eight hours," he feigned a pity party, but was laughing heartily.

I rolled my eyes. "I'll call her tomorrow and invite her over. Maybe by then we'll have heard from my dad."

"I think we will." Terry smiled at me, and I settled back into him with a contented sigh.

* * *

I woke up the next morning to sunshine streaming through the window in Terry's room. It felt like a subtle reassurance that it was going to be a good day.

I got up and showered, tossing on one of Terry's t-shirts and some shorts before heading to the kitchen. I paused while on the way, bending to kiss Terry's forehead (he was fast asleep on the sofa, with his cell phone gripped in one hand on his chest). I smiled and carefully removed it to set it onto the coffee table.

_You are _so_ Batman._

He stirred just a little in response. "What's happening?" he asked, barely coherent, his muscles tensing.

I smoothed the black hair from his forehead.

"Nothing's happening, now go back to sleep," I assured softly, and he was snoring quietly again within seconds.

In the kitchen, Mrs. McGinnis had left a note about having to leave to take Matt to a soccer game and run some errands. But there was a succulent plate of still-warm pancakes on the counter.

"Nothing like home," I murmured while spearing a stack with a fork and dropping them onto my plate.

I had managed only one bite after dozing them with an absurd amount of syrup, before the home phone rang. I quickly rose to answer it so that it wouldn't wake Terry.

"Max, come outside in the hallway, there's someone I'd like you to see. I'm sure McGinnis is still asleep, so we'll just let him rest."

"Oh okay. Be right out," I replied to Bruce's voice.

After hanging up, I left the kitchen walked out of the apartment.

Bruce stood at the end of the hallway, hands pressed onto his cane and smiling. But behind him, there was a tall man with short, brown hair and a light moustache. His eyes were obviously weary, but his smile was gleaming when he saw me.

I felt my voice becoming stuck in my throat, and my eyes overwhelmed with tears.

"Dad!" I raced into him. He spun me around, laughing happily.

All was finally well. The night was over, and the morning had come.


	26. Chapter 25

**DesertedMirage Says: **Thank you **dispatcher652 **and **RedSharkBait**. :)

* * *

"So when do you think I can go back home?"

"What, you don't like staying with me anymore?"

"Terry." I rolled my eyes.

He laughed. "Okay, okay. Bruce said you're good to go back today…unless you'd rather go out with me to dinner." He grinned. "We've got three whole years to make up for, after all."

The Flame Thrower restaurant was packed, and a live band played on a small stage off to the side. A crowd was gathered around to eat and listen, chatting lightly over their food and drinks. Terry and I had first gone to the mall, and after doing some shopping, he suggested dinner at a restaurant I hadn't been to before.

"It's like an upscale Terra, isn't it?" I asked as Terry led me through the crowd toward a staircase winding to an upper level.

"Sort of, only with much spicier food," Terry replied with a smile. He was dressed impeccably in a white, long-sleeved shirt under a gray vest. For myself, I had decided on a subtly glamorous brown wrap-dress and matching pumps. I had let my dark hair down, falling over my shoulders.

The music had picked up to a lively tune when we arrived at the top of the loft, which overlooked the lower dining area, stage and bar.

"I figured it'd be a little less hectic up here," Terry said in my ear, over the music, as he guided me with a hand on my waist.

We scooted into our circular corner booth, tucked away from the other parties mingling quietly on the balcony. A dim light hung low overhead, and the entire ceiling was black and speckled with tiny white lights that appeared as stars.

"I wish I had known about this when I was looking for work in high school," I said while admiring the ceiling and sliding closer to Terry.

"It's the food that really makes the place, though," he ensured as we scrolled through the menu.

We ended up sharing a plate of "fire" spaghetti, as the menu had put it - both of us guzzling our glasses of water once we had finished.

"Totally underestimated that," Terry was admitting as he set down his glass.

I laughed with a wipe of my forehead. "True."

"What dessert do you think'll fix it?" he asked while scooping up the dessert menu.

"Oh, definitely ice cream!"

Terry grinned slyly, pointing to a bright red image of ice cream exploding from a volcano made of red velvet cake. "You mean the _spicy cayenne _ice cream?"

My eyes widened. "No way! Now that's _definitely _where I'd draw the line with the spicy theme!" I laughed.

The waitress came and removed the empty dishes, then soon returned with our dessert. Terry and I sat listening to the band for a couple of songs, twirling our spoons in the melted pool of chocolate ice cream.

I tossed my hair over my shoulder.

"I still can't get over how shway this is," Terry said quietly, and I felt his fingertips at the nape of my neck, where my bat emblem tattoo began.

"Sure you don't think it was a psychotically impulsive decision?" I grinned at him.

He shook his head, smiling at me. "No, but it makes me feel bad for not getting one for you."

"Aww." I smiled at his sweetness. "Even though we know you're terrified of needles," I couldn't resist to mention.

Terry looked indignant, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah whatever - it would've been simple. Bet I wouldn't have even flinched."

I rolled my eyes. "Bet you would've."

"Maybe a little."

I laughed. "Well I did, at least. But it was well worth it," I confessed, then looked up at his hair. "So when did you decide to do this?" I asked while reaching up a hand to glide my fingers through his midnight hair, which was slightly longer than the way I remembered it years prior. "I totally haven't even asked yet."

Terry laughed softly, his cheeks showing hints of color.

"Just got tired of the shorter look and started growing it out," he said while stretching an arm over the top of the bench, fingers dangling on my shoulder.

I smiled. "I like it, along with the stubble," I mused while touching his jaw. "Very…Batman-esque."

"Oh really?" Terry's eyebrows lifted.

I nodded ingenuously. "Most definitely," I murmured as we neared for a kiss.

"I do miss the pink, though," Terry confessed when we parted, catching a strand of my hair between his thumb and fingers. "But this is pretty."

I laughed. "You think sfo?"

Another song played, a more laid-back, jazzy sort of melody. The band was improvising and the drummer playing with swishing brushes and smooth maracas. Our dessert was whisked away by the waitress, and we were left to chat and enjoy the night. Every now and then, I noticed Terry sneaking a glance at his watch.

"Do you need to be getting back?" I questioned while stretching my arms.

He shook his head. "Of course not."

I arched an eyebrow, slowly smiling. "Are you lying to me, Terry McGinnis?"

Terry returned the quizzical smile. "You've known me long enough to be able to tell."

I laughed at his shrewdness. "Okay. Whatever. But I sense something's up."

"What for?"

"Oh, I don't know," I sighed melodramatically, leaning an elbow on the tabletop. "You've only checked your watch five times in the last few minutes," I highlighted. "Are you sure I'm not wasting the Dark Knight's time?"

At that precise moment, Terry's cell phone whistled. "Not in the slightest," he insisted after glancing at the phone, but the corner of his mouth was pulling up into a crafty smile.

"Okay, spill. You're up to something."

"You're right," he finally admitted, much sooner than I would've expected him to.

I tilted my head curiously, but Terry was looking to the other side of the table, where the waitress had usually stood.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," I heard a female voice from my left.

I looked from the grin on Terry's face to the entrance to our booth.

Chelsea, looking stylish as always with her short blonde hair spiking out beneath a pin-stripe black fedora, matching slacks and white satin blouse. Her sapphire blue eyes crinkled up into a smile.

I was up and on my feet in a heartbeat, both of us hugging and squealing like little girls.

* * *

"You mean to say Blade and Howard Groote tied the knot?"

"Yeah, they eloped. It was wild! Apparently, the two were going to the same school in New York and, well, you can guess the rest."

I grinned as I rolled onto my stomach on my bed, my chin propped in my palm as Chelsea caught me up on the gossip of our former classmates. She sat with legs crossed on the swivel chair of my desk, arms wrapped around the bowl of popcorn we'd made earlier. Terry had taken us home to my apartment before heading out to do some late-night patrolling.

My room was much as it had been when I'd left, and Mom had explained that she had wanted to keep it that way.

"It's unbelievable how much can change in so little time," I said thoughtfully while sliding the arrowhead necklace from hand to hand on the bedspread.

"True," Chelsea agreed while munching on her snack. "So…are you used to it yet?"

"Being back?" I asked.

Chelsea nodded.

I smiled vaguely. Sometimes, when I smiled, when I was being honest and realizing my happiness, when I felt it in all of its depth and rawness, part of me felt inclined to discount it. While I enjoy being back home more than anything, I still had remnants of serum in my veins, and the time would come that I would have to face the withdrawal. Bruce had said he was certain I could get through it safely, but I wasn't looking forward to it.

"It's so different…" I said slowly. "There were times when everything, when all of you, were almost like dreams. Like I thought I had imagined it. But I can't even put into words how good it is to be back."

Chelsea smiled. "Nothing was more shocking to me than Nick, though." She sighed. "I was so pissed at him after Terry had pieced everything together."

I pulled a hand over my hair. "I got pretty angry with him too. But honestly, now that everything's been explained, it's made me reconsider some things." I paused. "Almost everyone there was being controlled to some degree," I said, recalling Luna's candid account of her and Axis' beginnings at the agency.

"He seemed like a good guy, except at the party that night when he and Terry got into that fight. You were falling pretty fast, Max. I had to step in and pep-talk Ter to go after you." She chuckled.

I laughed. "That was insane. I had forgotten all about that night!" I sighed. "Honestly, I don't remember too much about Nick anymore…just 'Axis,' the guy at the agency. He wasn't that different, just more genuine…" I gazed down at Terry's necklace in my palm. "And as weird as it sounds, it was like the further I fell for him, it only made me love Terry more, even when I couldn't completely remember Terry. It was like Terry _was_ Axis…"

Chelsea nodded slowly. "That is so deep. I knew you two were meant for each other. Not even brain-freezing serum could tear you apart," she said with a smile.

I chuckled. "Nope."

"Crazy to think one mission for the CIA ruined his future…poor guy."

I lifted my eyebrows at her sympathetic statement. "Oh, so now he's a 'poor guy'? Coming from the girl who hated his guts back in high school?"

Chelsea laughed off my accusation. "C'mon Max, that was high school. I can feel badly for him, can't I?"

"You can," I agreed slowly. "But I don't really think his future is ruined."

"Really?" Chelsea looked intrigued, lifting an eyebrow. "Are we talking about the same guy?"

I laughed. "Yes. But Bruce doesn't seem to think Axis--Nick--will get much time, if any. Because of the brainwashing, you know. And they've got evidence and people stepping forward already to witness."

"Oh wow." Chelsea's head was tilted in curiosity.

"So what about you?" I ventured with a smile. "Any guys fighting for the Great Matchmaker's attention? Any worthy enough for your affections?"

Chelsea snorted with an eye roll. "Oh, they're fighting alright. But I'm not buying."

"Chelse--"

"No, no, no. I decided after the last guy who showed himself to be nothing more than a waste of my time that I'm waiting until after college--which isn't that much longer, if you think about it."

I sighed. "You sound like me back in high school."

Chelsea shrugged, tossing a popcorn kernel into the bowl and setting it aside. "Maybe you had a point in waiting for Mr. True Love as opposed to Mr. Right, because all of my 'Rights' so far have turned out to be very wrong."

"Well," I began with a sigh, "you just haven't met 'him' yet…" my voice drifted as I rubbed my chin, "or _have_ you…?"

Chelsea frowned, suspecting what waters I was steering into.

"Oh no, Max, c'mon."

I shrugged with a mischievous grin. "All I know is he proved himself to be a truly genuine guy, and, who knows, maybe in time, once everything's blown over, you two could become friends--"

"Yeah, _in time_ is the key phrase here. And plus, when you say 'friends' you're meaning a friendship that would lead to something."

"You yourself said you wanted to wait until college was over," I swiftly pointed out with a sly grin.

Chelsea sighed, seeing that she had been cornered. "So there's someone I forgot to mention in my updates," she expertly maneuvered to a safer topic.

I rolled my eyes, but allowed her to continue. "Who would that be?"

"Dana, of course!"

My jaw dropped. "Oh no! Oh my gosh! I'm horrible for not asking! How did I forget about Dana?"

Chelsea grinned sarcastically. "Well, you two were only mortal enemies when you left."

I was holding my sides with laughter as I compared Dana to Luna in my mind. "Oh_ no, _I've nearly died by the true definition of 'mortal enemies' and I know that Dana and I were simply two teenage girls who couldn't handle drama."

Chelsea chuckled, sweeping a bang from her eyes. "Well, Dana was practically out of her mind with grief. She tried to play it off as though she was okay, but she was really, really messed up about it."

I frowned sorrowfully. "Oh no!"

"Yeah, your sister reached out to her to help."

"Wow," I commented quietly, then sat up, hugging my knees to my chest. "Hey, what about Alicia, by the way? What's with this gag order Terry's got on everyone? Is there something about her that you all don't want me to know? And when is she coming back from her so-called 'vacation'?"

"Whoa, whoa, so many questions!" Chelsea laughed while holding up her hands. "You'll find out soon and I promise you'll find the surprise to be worth it. Terry's trying to arrange something, and that's all you're getting out of me."

I sighed dolefully. "Once again, rejected. I've heard all about everybody in Gotham's business but my own sister's."

Chelsea handed me the popcorn bowl with a laughing smile. "Well, as you just told me: give it time."

* * *

Terry arrived bright and early the next morning, in high spirits and explaining he had an errand to run for Bruce and wanted me to accompany him. I tossed on a casual ensemble of jeans, flip flops and a black tank, still not wanting to draw attention to myself until Bruce had decided on an explanation for my return.

"So what errands do you have to run at Maple High?" I asked curiously when Terry turned his car into the parking lot of Hamilton High's rival school.

Terry exited his side and walked around to open my door. "You'll see."

The parking lot was mostly empty, as it was still summertime and school was out. But one of the few cars there snagged my attention as we walked to the front entrance.

"Wow, what a shway car," Isn't that the new Selene Coupe - the super rare import from Spain? I tried to get my dad to buy me one last year."

Terry snorted. "It only goes for a million creds - and that's _without_ leather seats and fully-loaded."

The hallways of the school were vacant. Terry led the way, mumbling "202C" under his breath as we walked along, holding hands.

"So what business has the Old Guy got you conducting here? Applying for a teaching position?"

Terry continued to search the classrooms for his room of choice. "Haha, really funny."

I snickered, tugging lightly at my arrowhead. Terry slid out his phone from his back pocket, frowning in concentration as he glanced from the numbered classroom doors to the cell phone screen.

"It should be here somewhere," he muttered.

I released his hand and walked on ahead of him, wandering toward an open classroom from where I could hear voices. "Hey, is this what you're looking for, Ter?" I asked, pointing forward. "The room numbers are even up ahead, and I hear voices."

Terry looked up and abruptly came jogging over. "Oh, yeah - perfect, thanks!" he exclaimed hurriedly, grasping my arms, nearly lifting me off the ground and whirling me around to face him.

I blinked. "Um, o…kay then. Feeling alright, Ter?" I couldn't help but chuckle at his frantic behavior.

Terry was smiling now, broadly, and with a devious light in his eyes. "I feel great, and so will you pretty soon," were his vague last words before pressing his lips to mine.

And then he was off, down the hall up ahead and motioning with his hands for me to stay put. He disappeared into the open classroom, and I stood wondering what had come over him.

Deciding to occupy myself, I strolled up to the notice screen on the wall, and watched a slideshow of upcoming events at Maple High. Their first football game of the season would be against Hamilton, and a few summer events were also spotlighted. I read about conventions, some book signings and seminars, but then saw and interesting name flash across the screen.

"Alicia Vasquez…" I whispered.

It wasn't just my sister's name, but the last name that caused me to think twice.

_Vasquez…where do I know that name from?_

Then it occurred to me: Enrique Vasquez, the rich, handsome soap star whom I had foolishly allowed to take me out to dinner in high school. Alicia had set the two of us up, and Terry had been jealous. Consequently, Enrique had turned out to be a jerk.

How uncanny to see my sister's name paired with his last name…

Terry was in the hallway again, quickly pacing toward me.

"Mission accomplished?" I asked expectantly.

Terry grinned lopsidedly. "Not quite. Come with me." He grabbed my hand and we walked to the open classroom.

"Terry, really, what's going on?" I sighed.

But he wasn't budging.

"You'll see. Now, just remember not to make any noise."

I laughed. "You'd think we were on a mission with all of this secrec--"

"Shh," Terry quickly silenced as the doorway approached.

I obediently zipped it shut as we arrived at the classroom.

A group of about fifteen highschoolers were seated behind the desks, focused intently on the front of the class. Addressing them, and holding their undivided attention, was Alicia.

Standing just to the side in the doorway, barely beyond her peripheral vision, Terry and I listened as she shared her story.

She spoke candidly of her drug addiction in her high school days, of our father leaving home, her emotionally abusive relationship with her boyfriend, and how she had turned her life around after losing her younger sister and marrying a great guy.

I listened in humbled awe, hearing the details of my sister's life I had missed out on.

When she finished, there was light applause before an older woman, a moderator, stepped forward.

"Thank you so much for speaking with us, Alicia. Let's give her another hand for coming to share."

Alicia grinned modestly as the audience clapped.

"Now we'll have some questions, and we'll read the written ones you all submitted earlier," continued the moderator.

As Alicia answered the girls' questions, a thought rushed to my mind. I turned to Terry, to whisper something in his ear, but he was already slipping me a piece of paper and a pen. Casting him a grateful smile, I accepted it and began to write. When I was done, Terry stealthily summoned the moderator and gave her the note.

When the last question had been answered, the woman handed Alicia my piece of paper with a whispered message.

"Oh, okay." Alicia nodded as she accepted it. "This is an anonymous note someone wants me to read," she informed the group. "It says: Alicia, I have been a big fan since the beginning and I just want to tell you how much of an inspiration you are to me and what a great impact you've made on my life. I know that your life wasn't always easy, but I'm so glad that you're using your story to help others. I can relate to how your dad left your family, and it was so great for you to be there for your mom and sister when they needed you…"

I swallowed shakily, clasping my hands as I looked down at the floor. Terry put his arms around my shoulders as Alicia kept reading.

"Thank you for being my role model, and for being so honest. You never know who's listening and watching." Alicia paused for a moment, gazing at the note in her hands. "Wow…um…" She cleared her throat. "Thank you…to whoever shared this. I really appreciate that."

The group was dismissed, and as Alicia began to mingle with the audience, Terry and I moved back into the hallway.

"Are you okay?" he asked, reaching out to brush away one of my tears with his thumb.

I nodded with a soft laugh. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Terry smiled gently. "Okay. There's an empty classroom next door that I think you can use," he suggested. "I'll catch up with her and tell her the 'anonymous fan' would like to meet her," he added with a wink.

I chuckled, but when he began to leave, I stopped him, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck.

"You're amazing, Terry McGinnis," I told him.

With a smile, he returned to the classroom.

I let myself into the vacant room next door, walking around the benches before I finally sat on the teacher's desk with a sigh.

My stomach was overflowing with butterflies. I stared out the window, into the golden sunshine…waiting.

I smiled to myself, realizing my eyes were already slightly glazed again. I wiped the tears with my fingers, filling my pounding chest with a deep breath.

The door opened.

She stepped in quickly, unsuspecting, but just as soon stopped. She was completely still, eyes fixed onto me in total shock.

She looked a little more mature; her dark, curly hair was in a low ponytail resting over her shoulder, and she wore silver hoops in her ears and a professional white pantsuit and heels.

Alicia swallowed, her jaw hung open.

I stood slowly, awkwardly wringing my hands as the silence persisted. But when I did try to speak, I found that I didn't know what to say, and I was liable to burst into tears at any moment.

Alicia's brow furrowed, and she seemed to be convincing herself it was real now. She walked forward, slowly, hesitant and unsure, until she stood right before me. She scanned my face and eyes, checking for the final time. She touched my cheek with her fingers, which were trembling.

"Is it you?" she asked quietly.

The tears slipped from my eyes as I replied, "Yes."

When we embraced, it was a very long time before we let go.


	27. Chapter 26

**DesertedMirage Says**: Thank you so much for the review on the last chapter, **This is L **and **dispatcher652.**

Well, this is the final chapter where I will comment, so let me take this opportunity to thank everyone for reading, for the amazing support, for the critiques, for the encouragement. When I posted this story (beginning with _Guardian Angel_, which is part one) I wasn't even sure if it would be well-received - I was an online fan fiction newbie. I wrote this story years ago, back when Batman Beyond was still running on TV. Like many others here, I was a big fan, but when I came upon this website, I was inspired to write fanfiction. It wasn't until a little over a year ago that I actually posted the story here after being a member of the site for years. But I'm just very grateful that it's been enjoyed, and I hope that others continue to find entertainment from _Guardian Angel_. Most of all, I want to thank **ohgodofwriting**, my best friend who was the first to read the story years ago and who has remained a constant help with writing, plotting and encouraging me to finish what I started. To everyone who supported part one of this story, thank you. And to **dispatcher652, RedSharkBait, Silverquickstar, Dragon77, bubbles'cute, SiaAhn Sacham, This is L, Syn'ri, mochaloca85, FoxylilRaven, Ferlinda the Dreamweaver, agurk, Honeychica04** - thank you so very much for reviewing to let me know your thoughts, and for supporting me and being so kind.

Music has always played a large role in writing this, and there's a blog for the story which features the songs that compliment the plot: **guardianangelstory. b l o g s p o t . c o m (without spaces). **You can also follow-up on the story there, where I have fan-art and other media.

The best is yet to come…

* * *

My sister lived with Enrique in a comfortable, downtown Gotham loft. He had just began a new TV project in the city, and Alicia said it could boost his American acting career. She had just gotten back from traveling with him and speaking at various events, sharing her story of deliverance.

Out the panoramic living room window of the studio apartment was a breathtaking view of the city. The sun steadily drooped to the horizon as Alicia and I talked the day away.

"You looked so beautiful - I love your dress."

"Thank you. So how surprised are you about Enrique?" Alicia was leaning forward curiously as I flipped the wedding album closed.

I shrugged with a smile on my face. "Not too surprised, to be honest."

Alicia's eyebrows lifted. "Oh?"

"Well," I reconsidered. "Maybe a little, that Enrique turned into such a good person. But the chemistry was all there for you two from the get-go."

Alicia laughed lightly, settling back into the cushiony, suede sofa we sat on.

"So you foresaw it all?"

"Basically." I smiled.

She replaced the photo album onto the coffee table. "It's so weird to think of what Dad was up to…" she commented quietly, twisting the diamond ring on her finger. "He couldn't walk me down the aisle or anything. That and not having you there was hard."

I curled my legs beneath me, leaning my side into the backrest. "Do you want to see him?" I asked gently.

Alicia drew in a slow sigh. She looked at me frankly and answered in a quiet voice, "Yes."

I nodded.

"So will you put on the mask again?" she asked with a small smile. "Do you want to?"

I massaged my forehead. This wasn't the first time I'd thought of it - even at the headquarters. My answer had always been the same, if I was given the opportunity to do it again.

I smiled faintly, nodding my head. "Don't tell Terry - we haven't talk about it yet."

Alicia chuckled. "I won't," she promised, then reached behind her to hug a pillow to her chest. "So what are you and Terry's plans?"

I yawned, beginning to feel the effects of my eventful day. "Mm, I don't know. Probably go catch a movie or go to Terra."

But Alicia was grinning in amusement. "That's great, but not quite what I meant."

I frowned. "Well, what _did_ you mea--"

"You know exactly what I meant, Max," she interrupted with a searching smile.

I looked away when my face grew hot, but failed to prevent the wide smile on my lips. I rolled my eyes at Alicia's snickering.

"Alicia, it's not my call - you know how traditional I am--"

"And I _also_ know Terry McGinnis and how devoted he is to you." She wagged a finger. "Don't forget I was the first to call this whole thing between you two, once upon a time."

I laughed. "I know, _trust me_, I remember. You never let us hear the end of it."

"Nope. And I don't plan on doing so now, either…that is, not until I hear some bells ringing."

I buried my blushing face into my hands.

"What are sisters for, Max?" she chuckled.

I laughed with a sideways glance at her. "Well, when they're married to a celebrity, they're great for taking me out joyriding in that shway Selene Coupe!"

Alicia laughed. "Okay, alright," she caved in, reaching into her pocket for her keycard.

I swiped it with a grin as we headed for the door.

"Don't get too crazy, now," Alicia warned as we grabbed our purses. "It goes from zero to one-hundred in two seconds flat, you know."

My eyes widened as we walked out the door.

"Why did I say that?" Alicia mourned.

* * *

Alicia, Enrique, Terry and I had a double lunch date the following afternoon, but Terry had to leave for work early when we were done. Alicia and Enrique drove me home to my empty apartment, where Mom had left a note about having private time with my dad.

My father had been working closely and cooperatively with Bruce, Commissioner Gordon, the police and other government agencies since his return. I hadn't been able to see him since when Bruce brought him by the apartment one morning, but I knew that there would be red tape until everything was cleared up. I had learned from Bruce recently that it turned out my dad had gotten more serum than he even knew he had received, which further helped his plea for a lighter sentence. The same was true for Axis, and we had been meeting regularly with the police to answer questions and give accounts from the past few years.

I moved freely in my old home, lounging on my bed after growing bored of watching TV. There was no need to worry about being alone in my apartment anymore, as Commissioner Gordon had made sure the building was under close watch for my protection until the case had been settled. And plus, I could never rule-out Batman being nearby, as he always had.

I was mindlessly staring at the ceiling, allowing my thoughts to wander free and body to melt into the bedding. I folded my hands under my head and closed my eyes. My cell phone soon rumbled on the pillow beside me, and I rolled over to answer it.

My heart fluttered at the number on the display.

"Speak."

"I'm assuming you're bored," responded Terry's deep voice.

"How did you guess?" I smiled, laying on my stomach and gazing out the window, where the sun was disappearing and the night approaching.

"Bat-senses went off."

"You don't have those. Spiderman does."

"You picked up on the first ring. Either you're bored or you miss me," he reasoned.

I snickered. "How about both?"

"Fair enough." His voice was chuckling softly in my ear. "And I miss you too, so how about you head to my place to wait for me?"

I gave a sigh, feigning a lack of interest while curling my hair on my finger. "Mmm, I don't know. I think I've got plans."

"With…?"

"Spiderman."

"I'm much cooler."

"I guess I can make an allowance…"

"Good. I'll see you later, then?"

"Possibly," I answered vaguely, continuing to play along. "And Terry?"

"Yeah?"

"Do I hear you trying to sound seductive or is that just your Batman voice?"

He laughed enigmatically. "I'll see you soon."

It was still barely light outside when I arrived at Terry's, and I left it dark in his room once I'd greeted Mrs. McGinnis and Matt. I shut the door and plopped into Terry's beat-up bean-bag chair, which had weathered high school and college.

I was soon engrossed in browsing his Hamilton High senior yearbook, one thing I hadn't yet done since my return to Gotham. Somewhere in the drama club section, my eyelids began to droop, and I was off to sleep.

Guitar chords, a warm, mesmerizing melody. Something sad that lifted into something hopeful.

I opened my eyes. Terry was sitting in the space across from me, leaning on the floor against the bed, strumming a deep blue acoustic guitar.

A fleece blanket had been tossed over me. A soft lamp was on in the corner, but he hadn't noticed me watching him.

I listened and watched him as he played. Every now and then his shadowed face would cringe on a sour note, but I didn't hear the imperfections - only the beauty in the song. He was concentrated yet relaxed, watching his fingertips carefully pressing the strings as he strummed.

I had known he liked guitar, and that he had expressed an interest in learning how to play back in junior high. But he hadn't ever really followed through with it.

"I'm glad you finally took it up," I said quietly.

Terry looked up, silencing his playing by placing his palm to the strings.

"Did I wake you?" he asked apologetically. "I played as softly as I could…"

I shook my head. "You did, but I like it. Please keep playing."

Terry started at the beginning of the song, raising his eyes to meet mine at times. When he was halfway through, he played softer and spoke, "There are lyrics to it."

"Can I hear them?" I asked with a smile.

He laughed gently, beginning at the start of the song again, and proceeded to sing along:

"I'll sing it one last time for you, then we really have to go. You've been the only thing that's right in all I've done. And I can barely look at you, but every single time I do, I know we'll make it anywhere away from here. Light up, light up, as if you have a choice. Even if you cannot hear my voice, I'll be right beside you, dear. Louder, louder, and we'll run for our lives. I can hardly speak, I understand why you can't raise your voice to say…

"To think I might not see those eyes makes it so hard not to cry. And as we say our long goodbyes, I nearly do. Light up, light up, as if you have a choice. Even if you cannot hear my voice, I'll be right beside you, dear. Louder, louder, and we'll run for our lives. I can hardly speak, I understand why you can't raise your voice to say. Slower, slower, we don't have time for that, I'll I want is to find an easy way to get out of our little heads. Have heart, my dear, we're bound to be afraid. Even if it's just for a few days, making up for all this mess. Light up, light up, as if you have a choice. Even if you cannot hear my voice, I'll be right beside you, dear."

Terry played the final chord, slowly stroking his fingers over the strings, and the warm sound hovered in the air until it could no longer be heard.

"That's so beautiful."

"I probably didn't do the singing much justice." He smirked at himself. "It's an old song I learned..." He chewed his lower lip. "I picked it up it while I was looking for you… I kind of thought it was about you. So it was like I was singing it to you, even though you weren't here to hear it."

I smiled slowly. "I don't know what to say… Thank you for letting me hear it now."

Terry grinned, rising up to lean his guitar against the wall. "Which reminds me," he said, opening his desk drawer. He turned around, producing a small rectangular gift-box. "This is for you."

I lifted the lid, and laying inside was a silver heart-shaped pendant on a necklace chain.

"I found it on your bedside table a few years ago," Terry explained. "I had gone into your room for the first time since that night. I saw it and kept it, and I kept listening to it, just in case you were still wearing my arrowhead. And when I first heard your heartbeat, I was really excited because it let me know for sure that you were out there." He slid his hands into his pockets. "It's pretty much how I found you."

As Terry spoke, I remembered the day I had received the arrowhead necklace I had been wearing when I was kidnapped, when my father gave it back to me to wear.

__

To think Terry was always on the other end, even if I didn't know it…

"You're going to make me cry, Ter," I whispered with a sigh. "Can you help me put it on?"

Terry nodded and reached to help me up.

"Oh wait," I laughed after handing him the necklace. "I forgot I'm still wearing yours." I lifted the leather strand holding the arrowhead from around my neck, then draped it over Terry's head and onto his collar.

He laughed. "Guess it'll be pretty difficult for us to get separated again."

I smiled, draping my hair over my shoulder as I turned. Terry took the other necklace and closed the clasp. He placed his lips to the back of my neck. "I'm not going to lose you again," he vowed when I was facing him again.

"Never again," I breathed as our eyes closed and faces neared.

The following weeks were more difficult as I entered into the withdrawal process of the serum. I was sick and off of my feet for about a week, but closely monitored with medical personnel. Terry was by my side the entire time. But one rainy morning, I woke up without a fever or headache.

We knew that it was over, and my mind and body were finally free.

* * *

A reunion dinner. Close family and friends, including Bruce, my parents, Alicia and Enrique, the McGinnis family, Police Commissioner Barbara Gordon, Chelsea, and Nick. All of us were gathered at Wayne Manor, slightly dressed-up for the occasion.

It was wonderful to see everyone together again, my family especially. Terry and Nick seemed to be on better terms, and Nick and Chelsea were becoming better acquainted (he remembered her easily as the girl who had slapped him for meddling with her best friend).

"Alicia, look," I said while tapping my sister's arm when dessert was served and everyone had dispersed into clumps in the back courtyard.

"Where?" She frowned, midway through a bite into a lemon-bar.

I gestured to a bench near a Koi pond, where Chelsea and Nick were seated together, laughing and talking quietly over their punch.

"Definitely going somewhere," Alicia confirmed with a nod of certainty.

"Then that certifies it," I chuckled.

"And I'll be two for two."

I rolled my eyes at her smugness. "Well, I hope so. Don't tell Chelse, but I want to pull some strings to help get the ball rolling for them."

"I don't think they need any help, at this rate," Alicia chuckled. "But hey, who am I to ruin your fun?"

"Alicia, honey, you've got to give me the recipe for this cheesecake - it's amazing!" Mrs. McGinnis exclaimed as she walked over.

Alicia was instantly alight. "Oh it's simple! All I did was use a traditional recipe with sour cream, but my secret ingredient was orange juice, which gives a bit of a twist…"

I smiled while moving away for Alicia and Terry's mom to chat.

I spotted my parents seated with Terry at a picnic table. He caught my eye and grinned. I returned the smile, then walked toward the mansion. Inside, in the sunroom, Enrique was discussing football with Matt, and Bruce and Barbara were having a drink at a roundtable beneath an umbrella.

"Enjoying yourself, Max?" asked Barbara.

I nodded. "I am. You should do this more often," I told Bruce with a grin.

He sighed, straightening the collar of his white suit.

Barbara smirked at her former colleague. "She's got a bit of a point, Bruce. I haven't seen this place look so cheerful in decades."

"Ace is gloating in all of the attention," Bruce noted as he watched the black great dane trotting about the guests. "How have you been feeling these days, Max?" he asked me as I joined them, taking a seat across from them.

"Better."

"No more headaches?" questioned Barbara, lifting an eyebrow as she poured me some sparkling cider from the bottle. She was wearing a black dress with her white hair tucked into a bun, and looked very pretty.

"No more headaches - thank you." I accepted the glass.

"Bruce was wondering what your plans are."

I smoothed the ruffled skirt of my white sundress, crossing one leg over the other. "Well, I don't really know yet…"

"You're certain?" Bruce inquired, looking doubtful of my response.

I sighed hesitantly. "Well…"

"You want your old job back," inserted Barbara, speaking the words for me.

I found myself laughing a little. "Okay, I do. I _really _do, actually. I just didn't know when to bring it up."

Bruce was staring down into his glass, swirling it in his hand. "Well, it's not exactly a surprise, Max. And I've thought about it - Barbara and I have discussed it."

I swallowed as I listened, feeling my palms growing sweaty around the cool glass I held.

"As you know, there are enough dangers as it is, in working for me. And now being a former underground agent, you have an added target on your back."

I hung my head, sensing the direction of the discussion.

"But…" Bruce paused, breathing a sigh as he set down his drink on the table. "I do realize how much you want this, and how dedicated you are, not to mention how well of a job you did before. And no doubt you've learned more, even in your training for the underground… Barbara?" Bruce sent the question into her direction.

"We'll give it time, Max. No jumping in head-first like Bruce did with McGinnis and with you before," she scooped up for him, sending him a slightly admonishing sideways glance upon reference to Terry becoming Batman. "I didn't even learn that my old character had returned until I saw it rumored on a tabloid not long after your first mission as Batgirl. But this time, I'll be keeping a much closer watch."

My head lifted, my eyes widened. "So…so it's a yes?" I could barely believe what they were saying.

Bruce nodded slowly. Barbara sighed.

"Oh wow," I reflected quietly. "Thank you so much. I promise I won't do anything crazy like before," I began to ramble out of excitement. "No more slip-ups, no more crazy wild goose chases."

Barbara was chuckling a bit now. "Now that much, Gibson, will always follow you to some degree."

"Believe it or not, McGinnis isn't perfect," Bruce added with the slightest smile at the corner of his mouth. "I never ask that from either of you. Only that you keep yourselves and others safe."

I nodded earnestly, feeling humbled suddenly to be sitting before the original heroes of Gotham.

"Well, I think we're boring her, old man," Barbara said before Bruce could bestow any more advice.

I shook my head. "Of course not!" I blurted with more enthusiasm than I'd meant. My cheeks colored as they both smiled.

"Now how about you go enjoy the party with people your age, Gibson?" Barbara chuckled. "And that's an order," she insisted before I could argue.

I nodded and stood to leave, but turned back to them with a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"You've made a good choice with her, Bruce," I thought I caught Barbara saying as I walked away, and I smiled once more.

As the evening progressed, I circulated to talk with everyone, including Chelsea, who'd mentioned having a "great" talk with Nick. I had merely smiled.

I was waiting for Terry to finish up a chat with Bruce once mostly everyone else had left, so that he could drive me home. He had a low-key mission to tend to later on, so he would be heading back out once I was taken home.

Mrs. McGinnis offered me a ride while I was waiting in the foyer of the mansion, but I politely declined.

"Goodnight, Max," she said while giving me an affectionate hug.

"Goodnight." I smiled.

Wayne Manor was silent as usual, now that it was only the three of us there. Ace kept me company as I sat in the front room, waiting for Terry. The men were in the dining room, where the dinner had taken place, a couple of rooms away. I was scrolling through news headlines on my phone when I realized I had left my cardigan on my seat at the dining table.

I sighed. Terry might not see it, so I decided to go fetch it myself.

I ruffled a sleepy Ace's ears and left for the dining room. In the hallway of the empty mansion, I could hear their voices from inside, up ahead. I approached the doorway, but slowed in my steps as I detected the serious tone of their conversation.

"So what do you really think?" Bruce was asking.

I heard Terry's sigh. "I don't know… I wish I could say. It drives me crazy sometimes. And I hate that I sometimes feel like I did back when I was a kid, you know? I don't want it to be this way."

"But you want it to work," Bruce mused.

"Of course. That's the whole reason why I'm so mad at myself for feeling this."

There was a pause, and I had to strain my ears to hear what was said next.

"Jealousy is normal for relationships, Terry. You feel that way when you love someone. You want their undivided attention. And it's not easy for you and Max, because of what happened to you."

"No, it's not," Terry responded quietly.

"But Terry, based on what I know of Max, and what I've witnessed all this time, she cares for you a great deal."

"I know." Terry sighed again. "I just… I just don't want her to feel like she _has _to love me, you know? I mean, wasn't it more natural for her with Nick? Think of all the time she was with him and not me…when she thought I was dead."

"You can't think that way, Terry," Bruce disagreed. "When I got that distress call from Mafx from the island, when she was on her way to the prison to get you out and escape, she was serious. It wasn't something a person would do for just anyone, and not even for someone they felt obligated to love. She did that because she loves you."

"But is she _in love_ with me?" Terry combated, his voice sounding pained. "That's what I don't know, and what can hurt."

Another period of silence, then the shuffling of chairs.

"Try not to let it bother you, Terry. Both of you have overcome obstacles that not many others face. That can speak volumes alone."

"Thanks, Bruce. I'll figure it out."

I swallowed roughly, realizing my body was trembling slightly. I quickly and silently walked away, back to the front room.

"Ready?" Terry asked from the doorway. I looked up, at his face in the shadowy room. I couldn't tell if he was smiling or not, but his voice sounded friendly.

"Yeah," I forced a smile and rose to leave with him.

After an unusually quiet car-ride to my apartment, I bid him farewell and got ready for bed.

I lay awake for hours, unable to erase Terry's honest, genuinely aching words from my head.

__

He doesn't believe that I love him. He thinks I'm just trying to be polite and pay him back for all he's done for me. He doesn't know how I feel.

He couldn't have been anymore wrong. I had been beside myself with longing for Terry when I was in the agency, and being with him again was bliss that I often felt I didn't deserve.

But how could I get him to believe it? I couldn't endure him not knowing. He had to see that he was the only one for me.

I needed a way to ensure Terry that his fears were totally unfounded - to show him that he had been my only reason for living for all of those years without him. I needed to show him that no one, not Nick or anyone else, held my heart.

I realized I had been clutching my heart pendant in my hand while I considered it all. I turned to look at the diary on my bedside table.

I knew exactly what to do.

* * *

*Song Credit: "Run" by Snow Patrol


	28. Chapter 27

**Thanks for pointing that out about Ace, RedSharkBait! :)**

* * *

Saturday morning was cloudy and cool for summer. I had slept soundly once I had finally fallen asleep the night before, and the rest had calmed most of my worries. I sat up and remained on the edge of the bed for a moment, rubbing the dryness from my eyes. I swept my hands over my face, then finally rose to gather my clothes and head for the bathroom.

I stepped into some jeans and tugged on a blue quarter-sleeve blouse, then tied my hair into a ponytail before the mirror. I studied my reflection up-close, palms pressed onto the vanity. I felt something pricking my hand, and lifted it to see my necklace. I had taken it off before showering and had forgotten to replace it. I clasped it back around my neck, then reached for my diary.

I was on my way to Terry's place. When I rang the bell, Mrs. McGinnis opened the door with a cheerful greeting, explaining that Terry was still asleep in his room (just as I'd hoped).

I entered the bedroom with caution. He was facing the opposite wall, dozing on his side halfway beneath the covers, one muscular arm dangling over the floor and black hair tousled. I lithely padded up to the desk beside the bed. As quietly as I could, I set down the diary where he could see it. Terry rolled over onto his other side at that moment, now facing me. I checked to make sure he was still sleeping, then smiled.

I reached for a pencil and notepad, writing:

"_This has always belonged to you, Terry, and now I want you to have it."_

I slid the paper beneath the flap which bound the diary.

While Terry continued to sleep, I left, backing carefully out of the room and noiselessly closing the door behind me.

* * *

If anyone could sleep in on a Saturday morning, it was Terry McGinnis. I decided to have a moment to myself to pass the time, and summoned a cab to the Gotham Forest Preserve.

I strolled slowly into the clearing Terry had brought me to so long ago. We had been here only a few times since my return.

Everything always seemed timeless here, the atmosphere lighter, the sunshine warmer. The clouds were parting as I sat down against the mossy old rock in the center of the small meadow. I leaned back while releasing a sigh, stretching my legs before me and resting my palms in my lap. I tilted my head up to stare at the foliage filtering the skylight.

I was thinking about Terry, of what I had written in the note to him just now. I reached up unconsciously to touch my heart pendant. I allowed my eyes to shut, listening to the sounds of the nature and tranquility surrounding me. I wasn't quite asleep, but totally relaxed and unconcerned about the future. My thoughts were effortless, drifting wherever they pleased. I was remembering a moment with Terry, one of which I wasn't sure to be a dream or a memory. But it comforted me. He was with me in the forest clearing, standing and watching me, smiling his boyish grin. He looked so handsome, so protective and loving. I must have been walking toward him, because the distance between us was lessening. It was like floating on air, and my body was weightless, my limbs wonderfully senseless. And yet, I could feel the faintest touch of warmth on my skin. I shivered.

"I love you," brushed a whisper on my cheek.

I was guided out of my reverie, and I opened my eyes. Instead of seeing the forest, there was Terry's face before mine.

I smiled.

"Just in case I forgot to tell you," he added while folding his hand around mine. He dipped his head to caress the inside of my wrist with his lips. I reached out with my free hand to touch his hair, letting my fingers travel through the deep black locks. He raised his head, smiling at me.

"You've never forgotten to tell me," I murmured as he bent his head closer, staring at my mouth. Our lips met, Terry delicately held my face between his hands. My heart was dancing. I felt him smiling against me, and my soaring thoughts had to remind me to kiss him back.

Now that my hands were free, I placed them over Terry's, sliding them down from my face so that I could wind my arms around his neck and shoulders. We stopped briefly for oxygen, and Terry nudged his face over to my cheek. We closed our eyes, listening to our breathing. He pulled back to see my face.

"I brought something with me." Terry revealed a book from his brown jacket - the diary.

I smiled as he scooted to sit beside me.

"So I found this when I woke up."

"Didn't think you'd be reading a girl's diary, did you?" I snuck with a joking smile.

Terry chuckled. "Nope."

"So have you read any? It's all yours now."

Terry's eyes sailed away as he appeared to be sidestepping the question. "Well…" he began slowly, smiling vaguely. "Here and there. How about we read some together?"

I held the book in my lap as Terry leaned over to see, coiling an arm around my waist with his head close to mine.

"This is one from when I was in training." I laughed, not having re-read the entry yet myself.

We read together quietly, laughing lightly every now and then.

"Sounds a lot like your Bat-training."

"Minus you, of course, which made it worse," I noted with a grin at him.

I flipped through the entries, Terry grasping my hand oftentimes to pause my flipping and admire my sketches.

"Hey, what's this one?" He poked a finger on a picture of a raven-haired teenage boy holding a black piece of clothing.

I didn't answer Terry's inquiry, but waited for him to take a closer look. The boy was wearing a red t-shirt with a gray bat-emblem on the chest. And in his hands, there was a matching red emblem on the black fabric. His jeans were tattered at the bottoms and his sneakers white and blue. Just below, it was written, "His Destiny."

"Is that me?" Terry asked with wide-eyes.

I nodded, remembering the day I had drawn it. "I wanted to make a drawing of you as a kid with the Batsuit - something foreshadowing, you know?"

"Shway!" Terry was beaming with pleasure.

I laughed.

We kept browsing, reading out loud at times. But as we moved along, closer toward the end, the entries gradually became more somber.

We came upon a particular entry that I recalled being written during a painful time. Where I had usually begun with "Dear Terry," the "Terry" had been scratched out and re-printed, as though I'd made a mistake in writing his name.

"Most of these are written to you so that I could remember your name throughout my day - just in case the diary was ever found and taken away before I got back to my room. It was the only way I could remember your name," I explained softly.

Terry nodded soundlessly.

"You can read this one, if you'd like," I told him as I angled the book in his direction.

"Are you sure?" Terry asked with concern showing on his face.

I nodded with a small smile.

Holding his arm more snugly around me, he began to read, "Terry, I'm getting really tired of the serum. Not tired of taking it, because that's only once a month and I can handle needles. But the changes are driving me crazy. Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy, and maybe not just from the serum…" Terry paused, clearing his throat as his eyes scanned the next sentences. "I'm really scared," he went on softly, his brow creasing as he read. "I'm always on edge, even when I'm pretending not to be. The weird thing about this place is that you can think you're happy one second, and then the next you're miserable. Every time I'm reminded of you, I feel sad, because I'm worried I might wake up and not be able to remember you. And I don't want that to happen. If it did, I don't know how I could forgive myself…"

Terry sighed slowly, pushing a hand through his hair. He hung his head, and I picked up the rest for him.

"But I've made up my mind that I'm going to make sure I can remember you," I read from the tear-stained page. "Even if I can't remember your name, I'll remember you. Because I don't think I really can forget you, Terry. Yes, there's Axis and he wants me to be with him, and I want to be with him as well. But I know that it's only because I see you in him, though he could never replace you. You've become too much a part of me, and I'm crazy because of it. I'm crazy because I can't have a real relationship with any other guy. I can't escape you, and I don't want to. So I think I'd rather be crazy, if that means I can keep you…" I swallowed. "Love, India."

Terry's hand closed over mine.

"I don't really know what to…" he spoke slowly, "I guess I don't…know what to say--"

"You don't have to say anything," I quickly assured with a tender smile into his eyes.

We read one more entry, one which wasn't completed.

"This one's unfinished," Terry stated thoughtfully.

I sighed. "Yeah, I was getting busier at that time with missions."

"Well, how would you finish it?" Terry asked curiously. "I mean, if you could, that is."

I toyed with my necklace as I pondered. "If I could," I began contemplatively, "I would say how glad I am to be back with you, and--" I stopped when I saw the pen Terry was holding before me, the wide grin on his face. I chuckled.

I took the pen and pointed the tip onto the page, where my old script had left off.

_Dear Terry, _

_Here I am with you now. Everything is perfect and I wouldn't have it any other way. We're in our forest sanctuary where you first brought me three years ago. It's a beautiful summer afternoon. We're reading this diary together, and it's finally being finished._

Terry tapped my shoulder and held out his open hand. "May I?"

I chuckled and gave him the pen.

He began to write:

_It is being finished, Max, but you and I are just beginning. Are you happy?_

I watched him hand me the pen, an expectant smile on his face. I rolled my eyes with a joyful laugh, then wrote:

_Of course I'm happy!_

He commandeered the pen once more, and we continued the exchange of written conversation.

_Could you be any happier?_

_Not at all._

_Are you sure about that?__ Turn to the final page._

He watched me closely as I followed his instructions. I thumbed through the blank pages remaining, and arrived at the end of the diary. But something solid was beneath the second to last page; I could feel it, even through the thick paper. Slowly, I lifted the page to see.

A hole had been punched, and through it was looped an elegant, pink satin ribbon. Tied to the thin ribbon, laying on the paper, was a white golden ring bearing a glittering diamond. It held the faintest traces of pink when it moved in the sun's rays.

My heart must have stopped beating altogether, and I merely stared. Although I was positively stunned, my tear ducts began to have their way.

Terry took the opportunity of my speechlessness to write beneath the ring:

_Will you marry me?_

I turned to his smiling face, unable to do anything but throw my arms around him.

***


	29. Epilogue

Epilogue

Terry and I are getting married today. We used to be unsure of where things would lead, and many times we were almost torn apart.

But today, we'll be together.

It's the greatest moment of our lives on the most beautiful day we could ask for. I'm standing in the darker section of forest, and I'm looking at the clearing in the distance. My dad is alongside me, and he encouragingly pats my hand on his arm.

Up ahead, in the sunlight, I can see the people - my family, my friends - Mom, Alicia, Chelsea, the McGinnis family, and Barbara. And standing beside Bruce, who is presiding over the ceremony, I can see Terry. We've both wanted a very laid-back yet classy wedding. Terry is the picture of perfection in his white jacket over a pale blue shirt and white satin tie. His slacks are white, his feet bare. My dress is traditional, white, strapless satin with a bit of a ruffled train trailing behind me. A pale blue ribbon is tied around my waist, and I have a necklace made of white hydrangea on my collar. I'm barefooted, and my dark brown hair is smoothed back to fall against my exposed shoulders.

I'm trying to gather myself before we make our walk, nervously clutching my pink and blue rose bouquet in one hand and my father's arm in the other.

"You look beautiful, baby girl," Dad tells me with a reassuring smile.

I grin. "Thank you, Dad."

"Are you ready?"

I breath in deeply, then nod. "I'm ready."

We begin to walk forward, closer to where the trees part and the light begins.

I can see Terry with his head tilted to the ground, his shoulders shrugging in a sigh as he folds his hands in front of him. I can't wait for him to see me, and suddenly I'm thinking of the memories, the times that brought this day to pass…

* * *

_"I mean, I-I did want to thank you for all of that…for being there for me and all. I don't mean to complain." Terry chewed his lip. "'Cause when I'm in situations that I can't talk about with my mom or even Bruce, I know I can always talk to you."_

_I rubbed my arm, looking down at the portion of a cushion between us._

_"Situations like Batman?" I questioned quietly, hoping to lighten the air._

_"Especially Batman," Terry placed his hand beneath my chin, lifting my face. "And…I-I want to be there for you, for a change."_

_I stared into those pale blue eyes, feeling the rest of the world slow to a stop. So many times his eyes made me feel weak inside…like now._

_Terry bent his head down closer to mine._

_"But you are there for me, Terry. Always…" I swallowed hard as his lips came dangerously close to my own. "Always there…for…me," I spoke in a whisper._

_Our lips tenderly touched for the very first time. My heart melted away, my skin warmed. How could Terry make me feel this way? We'd been best friends all our lives. I had never felt this for anyone before._

* * *

_"Please don't walk away from this," he pleaded while struggling to stand up. "You're the reason I broke up with her, Max," Terry confessed._

_His words sent a shock through me._

_Sighing, he wrapped an arm around my waist and turned me to face him. Placing his hand on my face, he tilted it up to his. I was forced to look into his eyes._

_"Slag it Max, can't you see that I'm in love with you?"_

_I froze._

_Terry's voice was painfully sincere and my heart skipped several beats. As soon as the words left his mouth, a tear blurred in my eye._

_"I don't believe you," I breathed, letting the tear trail down my cheek._

_Terry's eyes reflected hurt at my lie, and he swallowed, nearing to place his lips to the tear._

_"Then let me convince you," he whispered in a way that made my knees weaken, his lips moving closer to mine._

_I started to protest, but there was absolutely no stopping him, and our lips locked in a soulfully passionate kiss… _

_…"What happened, Terry?" I asked._

_Terry didn't reply at once and I felt his chest move in a sigh._

_"Nothing happened, Max. I've known this for years. I just…never knew how to tell you. I-I guess it kicked me into action seeing that note on your mirror and worrying about you…"_

* * *

_My hands moved out slowly from my sides on the rooftop, catching a few of the sky's tears. I wanted to stay this way. Safe, confident, happy. I couldn't share this place with anyone else._

_My reverie was interrupted. My eyes snapped open, I looked to my left. My cheeks grew warm._

_Standing on the rooftop, Batman seemed a bit at a loss for words himself. But I was too surprised and embarrassed to notice._

_He cleared his throat. "Um, what are you--"_

_"Just…" I swiftly interrupted, determined to regain control of the moment, "taking a shortcut."_

_I felt his skepticism, despite his mask. "On a roof."_

_I puffed a disgruntled sigh, quickly stuffing my arms back into my jacket sleeves. "Yeah, and, what's wrong with that?" I shot, getting pissed at him._

_But Batman was smiling now, amusedly. "Nothing," he shrugged, crossing his toned arms over his chest. "Nothing at all."_

_I gathered a deep breath, smoothing my wet hair, playing it cool. Adjusting my jacket, I moved to the nearest fire escape. I would leave as though nothing had happened (but secretly hoping he hadn't seen the whole thing)._

_"Not too shabby. Just need to work on your landings a little more,"_

_I cringed, halting in my steps, crouched and ready to descend the ladder. I cleared my throat, deciding to entertain his criticism. Turning slightly, I said, "I don't appreciate your spying."_

_Batman chuckled to himself, very slightly. "I know. But it was hard not to."_

_I blushed, but his following inquiry ruined the compliment. "Pretending to be me, Max?"_

_I rolled my eyes._

This is exactly why I didn't want you to know about this.

_"As a matter of fact, no," I muttered, then started my descent._

_"Max, wait."_

_I didn't stop._

_Unfortunately, he decided to follow. But instead of using the ladder, he hovered down with his jet boosters. I ignored him._

_"Isn't it a little late for you to be out on the streets?"_

_"It's not too late for you," I couldn't resist the comeback, grunting as I reached the first landing. Two to go._

_Batman continued to overlook the ladder, and shrugged. "Well, yeah. But that's because I _have_ to be out here. I don't remember you have any commitments here, unless, of course, you're keeping a secret from me--"_

_"Terry, do you have to be so--"_

_My slicing retort was cut short by my sudden slip on the next ladder. The metal rungs were wet from the rain, and I was too preoccupied with arguing to take care._

_But Batman quickly caught me, and took it upon himself to scoop me up and fly me down to the ground. Taken highly off guard, I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to his shoulders._

_"There," he said. "It's easier that way, isn't it?"_

_I blinked, not having completely heard him. Through the suit's smooth surface, I could feel the muscles on his back._

_"What?" I questioned stupidly._

_"I, uh, said it's easier to fly," Batman replied quietly, still carrying me, staring me in the eyes._

_"Oh…" my voice wandered far, far away. I tried to remember how to speak. "Fly…ing."_

_Batman smiled._

_I pulled back to reality. "I didn't need your help. I just slipped. You can put me down now."_

* * *

_"Here, eat." I slid the remaining chunk of pastry across the table to him. "I don't need it."_

_"What do you mean?" Terry frowned, not looking at the food._

_I laughed. "Hello?" I raised my hands. "Eating danishes doesn't exactly help you lose weight."_

_Terry rolled his eyes. "You're crazy..." he hesitated, "but perfect."_

_I smirked off his compliment. "Tell that to the mirror."_

_An awkward pause drifted behind my statement, until Terry shifted and rested his arms on the tabletop, his brow furrowed and eyes down. "When are we gonna' talk?"_

_"About what?"_

_"Max."_

_I sighed, gathering the untouched food and Terry's empty cup. The plan was to get up and toss it, and hopefully change the subject. But Terry grabbed my hand._

_"Max, I just--" his voice was frustrated, and he watched me look away from him. His face fell. He released my hand._

* * *

_"But why Batgirl? Why not a secretary or aid or…" my voice trailed. My argument was failing._

_Bruce stood up from his seat as a dry pause ensued. "Make your decision by midnight tonight. Either you take the job or you don't," he sighed gruffly. "But if you don't, I'll have to ask you to stop helping McGinnis. The most important matter to me is the secrecy of this legacy."_

_I stared at the floor. Bruce walked farther away, my thoughts tumbled. Terry was readying his keycard so that we could go._

_With eyes closed, I gave my answer. I didn't have to think it over. "I'll take it."_

* * *

_"What?" asked Chelsea from her locker beside mine._

_"Hmm?" I asked halfheartedly, still focusing on Nick's text message. "Um, nothing. But yeah, this place is crazy. Very mature and…unbelievably shway with tango dancing and everything. It's called the--"_

_I had stopped speaking. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard on my phone, jaw dropped open, eyes nailed on the end of the school hallway._

_Terry. He had just turned the corner, moving ever nearer. I was frozen, paralyzed, halted in thought. All I could do was stare._

_Black slacks instead of jeans, a navy blue dress-shirt with the sleeves rolled up just below the elbows, the collar slightly unbuttoned and a white tie hanging loosely on his chest. His hair was a little less precisely combed, but now lightly tousled. He walked confidently, looking straight ahead, a new messenger backpack swinging on his broad shoulder._

_"What was that, now?" Chelsea asked, closing her locker._

_But I had barely heard her. Terry slowed down and paused when he reached us. His glance drifted between Chelsea and I._

_"Um…hey Chelse…Max," he looked at me, periodically shifting his eyes to the floor, and stuffing his hands into his pockets._

_Chelsea cleared her throat rather loudly and gestured with her hands, but I was too busy staring at Terry to wonder what she was up to._

_"Oh hey, what's up? New threads, I see," replied Chelsea. "Well Max, text me more about this place in Math--wait, nevermind, you actually listen to the teacher," she chuckled. "See you two later."_

_"Um," I finally managed verbal communication. "Okay, see ya'."_

_I had spoken robotically, and was now focusing awkwardly on the floor. My heart had practically stopped beating seconds back, but now it was racing madly._

_"Um, I'll walk you to class…" Terry spoke quietly, his blue eyes finding mine._

_I had to take another moment to process his words._

_"Oh…okay…sure."_

* * *

_I glanced at him when he didn't answer my question right away. I held his wounded hand in mine, attempting to remove some of the blood._

_"Did a fight with the old gang," Terry finally replied, tone neutral and pain medication kicking in stronger. "Won some money but lost some more when they got me. I guess I lost my touch. I'm a n-nobody without the suit."_

_I rolled my eyes. I wanted to scold him for rendezvousing with his old circle, but caught the sincerity in his last sentence and decided against it._

_"There are better ways to blow off steam, Ter."_

_"Yeah..." he spoke softly. "But I get tired...tired of bein' Batman and gettin' no real affirmation for it - 'sides stupid creds. No point in money when you're alone, I say. Didn't even wanna' spend it on Dana. Wasn't the same. Won't ever get what I want, the life I really want. Hell, fell in love with my best friend and got punished for it. Now do you see why I'm lame?"_

_I finished tending the wound, and gave Terry some food before he fell asleep on the couch. I brought a blanket and covered him, knowing he wasn't able to drive back to his place in his condition._

_When I awoke the next morning and walked into the den, the couch was empty, the blanket folded. A note rested on top of it, saying two words painstakingly written with his left hand:_

Thank you

_As much as I ignored it, somewhere in my heart, I knew without the slightest doubt that I was in love with Terry McGinnis._

* * *

_"Terry," I whispered his name into the silence of the empty cafe._

_Just as soon did I hear a knocking sound behind me at the front door._

_Frowning, I turned, expecting a confused customer who didn't know our hours. But it wasn't…it was Terry, standing in the rain._

_My heart took a pause, but I quickly turned back to my cleaning. It was locked. He wouldn't be able to get in._

_A clicking sound persisted behind me, and before I knew it, I turned to see Terry standing there, a lock-pick in hand. He stared at me, drenched from head to toe from the rain. His wet, black hair hung over his eyes, his leather jacket was soaked, his mouth was slightly open._

_I didn't know what to do except turn back around, back to my task._

_Terry frowned, then walked forward and hurdled the counter, standing up against me._

_I turned again, "Terry, look, I don't know what you want but I am not going to--"_

_"Max, would you just shut up?" he interrupted, then captured my hands with his own, forcing me to look up into his eyes._

_I wasn't able to speak._

_Terry searched my eyes, then nervously chewed his lip and looked away. "Look, I…" he took a deep breath. "I-I know that you're mad at me. And you've got a right to be. 'Cause I was wrong to do what I did at that party and say what I said. I didn't mean it, Max. I know that you're perfectly capable of handling yourself. I was just," he hesitated, struggling to say the right words. "I was just angry, Max," his gaze lowered to the floor, and he released my hands and stepped to the counter, resting his palms atop it with his back to me._

_"You don't even know… I didn't mean to hurt you or make you mad at me. I've never wanted that to happen. It kills me when you're mad at me, Max, 'cause then I can't be with you, I can't see your smile, I can't be the one who made you smile," Terry poured. "You drive me so crazy - you're'-you're so beautiful and perfect… I-I know that you don't want me to be in love with you," he turned to face me. "But I can't help it, Max. _

_"I'll always love you, even though you don't love me back…" his voice caught a little, and his eyes filled with sadness. "Max, I know that I'll love you forever…but I just don't know if I can take not having you with me…all I need is you to at least not shut me completely away. 'Cause when I'm not with you, I fall apart," his eyes slid away from mine to the floor as his tone dropped. "But I guess I just wasn't enough for you…" he finished softly as the realization kicked in that he might never have me._

_Terry slid to the floor, his face down, leaning against the counter._

_I had been listening in silence…hearing his words and…suddenly not feeling that old fear._

Terry loves me…he wants to take care of me… He's always kept me safe…

_But I had broken him._

_"Terry," I whispered, placing my hands over my mouth._

_Feeling overwhelmed, a few tears squeezed from my eyes as Terry sat staring at the floor in despair._

_Slowly, I lowered to my knees before him, then took his face in my hands. As he gazed in surprise, I pressed my lips to his, our tears mixing together._

_When I pulled away, Terry looked completely shocked, but gently took my hands into his and pulled me closer into him. Our foreheads touched for a moment, eyes closed. Our lips grazed shyly._

_"Max," he breathed, then wrapped his arms around my waist and I turned to sit against him in his embrace._

_For the rest of the night, we sat in the warmth of each other's arms, listening to the rain._

* * *

_Batman had just been pinned against the tall air duct by what seemed to be batarangs which she pitched, one at a time. His retractable wings were stuck to the metal, leaving him unable to move. He struggled to break free, but the batarangs held firm._

_With an arm wrapped around my side, crouching with blood dripping from my lip, I watched in horror as Luna pulled a gun from her belt._

_"Finally," she muttered before pointing it at him._

_All at once forgetting my pain and fatigue, I rose and sprinted into the gun's trajectory. Time seemed to halt for a moment, and we moved in slow motion. Terry managed to pull himself free, I arrived directly in front of him, and a bullet fired._

_When time caught up again, I was standing with palms pressed into the air duct on either side of Terry's shoulders to brace myself, and I felt a burning pain in my lower back._

_"Max!"_

_My hands slid down, arms dropping to my sides. Terry quickly caught me in his arms._

* * *

_"Let me rescue you…"_

_My body warmed with sensation when he touched me, his hands making contact with my arms._

_I closed my eyes as the fear multiplied…the fear that he was just a shadow, a character from one of my dreams, a mirage on a desert horizon…_

_If he disappeared this time, my heart wouldn't be able to withstand it._

_"I'm afraid you're not real," I breathed in total honesty._

_He gently turned me to face him, the unforgettable eyes burning into mine. "Then let me convince you."_

_And after he'd spoken the same words he'd said in a memory I could barely recover, we were dancing again, to the faint notes of a duet from the ballroom below…_

_"Promise me you won't leave me," I whispered as another tear escaped._

_He pressed his lips to the tear on my cheek, then his mouth grazed mine. "I promise," he responded fervently._

_I touched his face, feeling a lock of the black hair in my fingers. But what I saw was only what the mask allowed. Hesitantly, I began to lift it away. He made no motions to stop me, and he was smiling when it was gone._

_I could barely breathe._

_None of my attempts at drawing, no matter how skilled I had become, could ever contend to what I saw before me. Everything had been a flawed attempt to reconstruct the face of the one I loved. But seeing it, seeing the real thing, suddenly made all the agony of being away from him, all of the times my heart had been shattered and whipped, amount to absolutely nothing._

_I wanted to look upon him forever, and would have been completely content in doing so with the rest of my eternity. I delicately touched his lips with my fingers, tracing his nose and brow, my hands held his cheeks, my fingers glided through his hair._

_His eyes never left mine._

_"I love you so much," I confessed in a hushed voice._

* * *

_"Max..."_

_A voice resonated from the stillness of the forest, challenging my senses. My real name...I hadn't heard it in years, I hadn't remembered it in years._

_There was only one person who knew me as "Max" anymore…_

_Standing with an astonished look on his beautiful face was a young man with jet-black hair, framing his countenance and falling over his brow. He wore a white t-shirt and black jeans. He was a more muscular, taller and older version of the boy with an easy smile and brooding nature. But he was the same. The solemn sky-blue eyes rendered me paralyzed. My heart galloped. Memories...so many that I couldn't catch them all. His arms wrapped around me, walking back from the theater in high school, a confession of love, an argument, flying above Gotham, taking a bullet for him, dancing with him on a moonlit balcony..._

_My first instinct after the shock dissipated was to run into his arms, but something stopped me._

_"Max," he spoke again, barely above a whisper. I couldn't recall that name on my own, so he must have been real._

_I felt the cruelest throbbing in my chest we looked at each other. They must have lied to me for all of these years, because this wasn't a delusion. He wasn't dead. But while everything inside of me ached to run to him, I knew that we had been separated for a reason. He was Batman, my father's agency's mortal enemy. I couldn't be with him; they would kill him for sure this time when they found us together._

_And I wasn't about to let that happen - even if I had to leave him. I wasn't going to let him die. The second chance I'd prayed for to save him was here, and I had to use it wisely._

_I had to run._

_He took a step forward. My eyes widened, my head shook slightly in sudden dread. He looked painfully concerned for me, and as he took another step, I shot to my feet and tore off into the opposite direction._

_Running away from the one I loved felt _worse_ than suicide…_

* * *

_"Do you think I'm going to let you go, Max?!"_

_"I don't know--yes! You have to!"_

_Terry grit his teeth and dragged a hand through his black hair. Then, after a moment, he looked up at me with the most loving expression and replied, "I can't."_

_My eyes filled with tears as he tenderly touched my hair._

_"Neither can I," I confessed in a terrified whisper._

_We gazed sadly into each other's eyes, and the helicopters were suddenly upon us._

* * *

_I hugged my arms tighter around Terry's waist as he throttled the jet-ski forward, pressing my cheek against his back as I looked at the island I once called home. I watched it burn for a long time, the once majestic mansion now a skeleton of raging flames and melted steel. I couldn't speak._

_We had done it - I had prevailed over my captors, and this signified it all. The most painful chapter of my life had been closed, and Terry McGinnis was still at my side._

_"I love you, Max," Terry called back to me over the purring engine of the craft and sloshing waves._

_I finally turned my eyes away from the burning building. I closed my eyes and let the wind whip at my face, and the remaining raindrops to slide down my cheeks and combine with my tears._

_"I love you too, Terry."_

* * *

My father and I are upon the entrance into the meadow now, and Terry lifts his head as all goes silent. He spots me clearly as my dad walks me into the glowing light.

Alicia's grinning with moist eyes, my mother is crying. But Terry - I promise myself never to forget the look on his handsome face. His blue eyes are locked onto me, and I can see that they are glazed. He swallows visibly, then seems to draw in a shaky breath. He's beginning to smile when we make eye contact. I grin in return, feeling my legs turning to rubber. But Dad keeps me upright as he moves me closer.

I feel a warm lump forming in my throat, when finally, we've arrived. I turn to receive my father's hug and kiss, and he joins my hand with Terry's.

We both stand for a long moment, staring into each other's eyes. With a final smile, we turn to face Bruce, to begin our marriage.

_I looked up at him, returning the property license. __"This is…yours? You own this, Ter?"_

_He shrugged with a light smile as he tucked the paper back into his pocket. "Pretty much. I bought it about a year ago with some of my first paychecks from Bruce," he looked around. "This whole preserve is Wayne's anyway, but one day I stumbled on this clearing and asked him if I could have it," Terry looked back at me. "Now it's my private property, hidden away from the outside world."_

_I looked down at my hands, feeling humbled to be there. "Thank you for letting me into your world."_

_Terry touched my chin, looking into my eyes. "Thanks for letting me into yours," he replied softly._

_Very gently, we shared a kiss._

"You may now kiss the bride."

**THE END**

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****For more info on the story, please visit guardianangelstory. b l o g s p o t . c o m (without the spaces).**


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